The Ghosts of Utumno
by ElvenEscapist
Summary: Long before the First Age, Melkor The Corrupt excavated a terrible fortress full of unspeakable horrors to plague Arda with. This bastion of evil was known as Utumno. Many years have passed since its supposed destruction by the Valar and yet a terrible evil lingers. Now, a simple mortal woman with a shattered memory may hold the key to destroying it once and for all.
1. Prologue

**Introduction: **

**Hi everyone! Thank-you for taking an interest in my little hobby. **

**Firstly: I do not own anything, nor do I seek/accept profit for any of the contents. I only lay claim to the O.C.s. **

**A few quick notes to bear in mind:**

**1) I am writing this only as a hobby of mine that brings me enjoyment and it was only at my husband's encouragement that I decided to put it up online. I used to write more but that was over 10 years ago so I'm definitely rusty. **

**2) All O.C. names are from various Sindarin/Quenya online translators based on the personality of that character. I have no idea if the translation is any good as I am terrible at real languages too. ;) I also will have very limited Elvish language content for the same reason.**

**3) I will try to keep characters as true to their nature as possible, however if a character does differ drastically from how they normally are remember there is a reason for that. **

**4) I could probably get away with a 'T' rating for 90% of this story however I do plan on adding some rather intimate mature content in later chapters (with purpose) so I'm going to err on the side of caution and just default to 'M'. **

**I think that's everything so…here goes! **

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><p><span><strong>Chapter 1:<strong>

**Prologue: Strife**

Anna paced nervously about the small media room of her parents' house.

This was it. The conversation that would see the ruin of all the hopes and dreams she had so vainly clutched onto this long year.

As she walked back and forth her eyes repeatedly fell upon the red micro-fibre couch that took up most of the limited space. No matter how often her eyes were drawn to its soft comfort she knew there was no way she could stay seated.

Her heart hammered almost painfully in her chest and her anxiety was the worse it had ever been which caused her skin to periodically burn from stress. Her legs felt weak and awkward but she still could not bring herself to sit.

She breathed deeply in and out but it did little to alleviate the worry as she glanced upward at the clock above her: 5:23 – he would be here soon. Her heart leap in fear and she felt ill. She was dreading this conversation and wished to God it didn't have to happen. In fact, she had done her best to avoid having it for months when she knew deep down it was inevitable. She just couldn't accept it and the thought of having to continue on as she had been before depressed the hell out of her. He was quite literally her only friend and now, forced with the prospect of losing that, it made her panic. Despite knowing it was right, her heart fought all reason and kept whispering torturous questions and trying desperately to construct scenarios where they could still be together.

They had been down this road before but decided to keep trying and had ended up having some great times together.

No.

She shook her head violently to dispel the thought. They were not great times. They had always been marred by some weird quirk of his preventing her from truly being close to him. The time they had house-sat for his sister was the fondest memory she had with him. A decent sized bungalow complete with a pool all to themselves for a week, conveniently located a bike ride away from their work. During that time she felt as though she were getting a real picture of what being married to him could be like – and she liked it.

They would (attempt) to make dinner together which, more often than not, ended in ordering take away. They watched movies together and reminisced over old music and went for evening swims in the pool. They would go off to their jobs in the morning and repeat the charade all over again with each day.

During all that time though, he had not wanted to sleep in the same bed together. They 'shared' a bed periodically but he would not sleep with her through the night. It had puzzled and even hurt her a little and when she inquired about it his answer would always be non-descript. In short it seemed he either had no real explanation or he wouldn't tell her.

He had also never allowed her to accompany him to any clubs after work. Naturally this had raised many red flags but his explanation always seemed to assuage her fears and she just wanted to keep her dream of a future away from her miserable life alive no matter what.

Her family had no money and she frequently went hungry as a child. She was embarrassed and when questioned as to why she had no lunch by teachers she would lie and say she forgot it at home or on the bus to avoid raising suspicions. She had never owned more than 2 pairs of pants or 3 shirts at a time until she was 16 and able to get a job of her own. She revelled in the freedom of having her own money but the joy was cut short when her parents decided she was not being responsible enough and opted to start charging her a sizeable amount of rent. They claimed it was to teach her responsibility but, since they were spending her money and not saving it like any reasonable parents would do, the lesson escaped her.

Her father was a failed musician, though not from lack of talent. He carried within himself an enormity of demons in the form of a difficult childhood coupled with intense mental problems. He wasted thousands of dollars on new instruments which he would obsess on for 12 hours a day for months on end until one day he grew bored of them. He would sell them shortly after (at a great loss as he desired money quickly) only to purchase a new toy immediately, the money barely gracing his fingertips before passing through them once again.

To make matters worse, he also had a fondness for beer which extended to making his own. He was not a violent drunk physically, though his words were always cutting and soul destroying all the same. Alcohol and anti-depression medication are a dangerous potion when mixed together and the affects lead to a devastating result one grey day.

Anna had been the one to find him at the tender age of 12 lying on the kitchen floor sobbing hysterically, his wrist bound in cloth as he had immediately regretted his thoughtless action. They had never sought any kind of therapeutic help for her as it was not positively viewed by her father, himself having been bounced around from one psychiatrist to another and not believing it to have done him any good.

School was its own special kind of hell.

How could these kids with their new clothes, expensive hair cuts, and stable home lives ever possibly understand her? Due to her background she had been forced to grow up much more quickly and had adopted a solemn outlook on life. She was quiet, shy, and not at all confident so it made her a prime target for bullies.

In order to save her own life she decided to drop out of school – which went uncontested by her parents. An actions which left her to wonder if they really cared about her at all.

Her job and her co-workers had become her entire world and remained that way for 4 mundane years. Books, movies, and videogames were her only source of comfort as in them she found friendship and understanding. She would work, come home, eat, and play games then read until she could no longer keep her eyes open. She envied the characters who found friends, despite being outcasts, because they had each other. She had no one and felt hopelessly alone.

It all changed one day when a new employee showed up at work. He immediately took an interest in her and marveled at how 'innocent' she was. At first she kept her distance having been so used to being used, but her crippling loneliness made her vulnerable to his charm and so he won her over in no time. Dating amongst co-works was forbidden so they had to keep it secret, though several people actually knew about it. This made the breakup all the more terrifying because it meant she would have to find a new job since she could not bare to be around him as if nothing had existed between them.

It was the only job she had ever had and she did truly enjoy it, but more than that was the pseudo friendships she had there. They weren't real friends of course, as they never saw each other outside work, but after working alongside them for 4 years they were the closest thing she had to friends.

5:31pm. He was late.

Maybe he didn't want to break up? Maybe they still had a chance?

The door bell rang and the dogs began their ear piercing chorus of yowls.

He was here.

Her body flashed with heat again and she finally sank down into the cushion.

This was it.

"Anna?" he called hoarsely. His voice always sounded like that. It had driven her crazy when they first met but now it was…familiar.

"In here!" she called brightly without hesitation. Maybe if she could stay positive he would want her still? Maybe if she acted as though nothing were wrong nothing _would_ be?

He peeked his head awkwardly through the door and smiled hesitatingly at her and her heart dropped as she saw guilt and remorse etched into his face. "So…" he started uneasily as he came and sat down beside her, keeping an unnaturally large space between them. "You wanted to talk?" he prodded.

Her breath caught in her throat. Could she say it?

He waited, the smile now gone, replaced by apprehension.

She couldn't do it! "Umm," she fidgeted nervously as she tried to find something –anything- to say.

"Is this about last night? At the party?"

She cursed mentally. He had dove straight into the heart of it. She couldn't avoid it now.

"Yeah…"she begrudgingly admitted.

The previous night had been their company's anniversary party. All the stores had been in attendance and even the C.E.O. had graced them with her appearance electing many a gasp of awe as the woman dubbed the "Dragon Lady" meandered amongst the guests making small pleasantries here and there.

Her boyfriend had evidently taken a page from the C.E.O.'s book and taken it upon himself to spend the night drinking and dancing with nearly every female employee there – except her. In fact, he seemed to be deliberately avoiding her.

If she needed a clearer sign of the fate of their relationship none could be had. She had been furious and when he had gone outside for a smoke break she ambushed him and rallied all her frustration at him. She wasn't one to raise her voice normally but that night you would be hard pressed to find someone who didn't hear (which presented its own issue later on).

Shuddering at the awful memory, Anna finally spoke. "I'm sorry for yelling at you," she finally said.

He cast his eyes downward. "Oh," was all he said as he slumped his shoulders in disappointment. "I was kind of hoping you would be the one to say it first," he admitted sheepishly.

She played dumb. "Say what?"

"Anna…" he avoided looking at her as he moved his mouth robotically searching for inner courage. "I…think we should break up," his voice was but a whisper as he finally looked up at her with pleading brown eyes that implored her not to resist. "I thought you were going to break up with me when you called me over here today," he confessed as if seeking to share the burden with her.

She couldn't breathe. It felt as if she weren't getting any air. All reason fled as she desperately began opposing his decision vehemently.

"Anna," he addressed her gently but firmly as he grasped hold of her shoulders, locking his eyes with hers. "I don't love you."

Anxiety surged within her, taking hold of every muscle, stealing every thought from her mind, and gripping her heart painfully as it overwhelmed her and rendered her utterly numb. Even reality felt as if it were distancing itself from her as she sat in stunned silence.

Her worst fears had come true – now she was alone once again.

"Are you O.K.?" he asked nervously, observing the distraught expression on her face.

No. She was not 'O.K.'. She had never been worse.

"I'm gonna get going okay?" he said, waiting for her response but saw he wasn't going to get one and so he quietly let himself out.

The sound of the side door closing broke the trance she had been in as her emotions returned with greater fervor and she collapsed into the pillow and sobbed uncontrollably.

**xxXXxx**

Someone above must have taken pity on her as she and her ex had been, mercifully, assigned to different shifts at work. It had been a full week since she had laid eyes on him but the pain was as raw as that fateful day.

She hadn't been able to function that day and the following days proved to bare no better outlook. Her mother had called the doctor and gotten her an emergency appointment and she was prescribed a combination anti-anxiety/anti-depressant medication. She was told it would take a few weeks before it would start to take affect but this brought her no joy. Not only was she alone but now she was just like her father. Things couldn't get much worse.

Or so she thought.

At the end of her shift that night her supervisor had approached her and given her a heads up that the manager wanted to 'talk' with her about what had happened at the party. Apparently, it was no co-incidence she and her ex hadn't been working together. It seemed the truth was out and now she had to face the consequences.

Her supervisor had known all along, but she had looked the other way. She was visibly upset at having to inform Anna about this as she knew that there was no way that it could go well. The only reason she hadn't been told sooner is because it had taken a week for the manager to build up enough nerve to speak with her.

Anna thanked her and assured her she wouldn't let on to their manager that she had known all along. The last thing she needed was guilt on her conscience. Her supervisor wisher her a good-night and said she'd just have to run the till off and then they could lock up and go.

Anna hung up the last of the new stock and made her way back to the employee area. Once inside, she went toward the lockers and grabbed her bike helmet and IPod. As she was about to head toward the washroom to retrieve her bike (as it was the only secure place for it since it required a key to access the room) she heard the heavy metal utility door being thrown up and open. It was a large opening that went nearly to the ceiling to allow for deliveries and transportation of old stock to outlets via transport trucks.

At nearly 9pm though there was only one person who would be using that – the metal collectors. They came by every 3 days or so to pick up all the scrap metal that had amassed from old stock or defective merchandise which, surprisingly, amounted to a lot. It saved the company money as it meant less weight and more room in their garbage bin at the end of the week. And so, despite not being highly encouraged, it was allowed.

Anna threw her helmet by the washroom door and went to greet the driver known plainly as 'Rob'. He was a little rough-around-the-edges as they say, but overall he was a decent guy just trying to make some extra money for his family. Occasionally, he brought his young daughter along for a ride as she always loved helping her Daddy out. It made her feel important Anna guessed.

Fully expecting to see the overly tanned 40 something year old she was greatly surprised to see it was not Rob – but her ex.

He wore a far too eager smile and his face light up when he saw her – relieved no doubt that he had not been caught by their supervisor first. "Hey there Butter Cheeks," he greeted as he sauntered over to her.

'What the hell are you doing here?!' she mentally screamed. She narrowed her eyes and glared at him as he approached. On top of having zero desire to see him she absolutely loathed that nickname – and he knew it. She was self-conscious about her cheeks as she didn't have very prominent cheek bones and thus it gave her a much more rounded facial structure than she cared for. She was of average weight but no amount of weight loss seemed to do anything to alleviate the fullness in her face.

He stopped and looked amused. "What? Aren't you gonna say 'hi'?" His cocky attitude alerted her to the fact that something was going on. How could he act as though nothing had changed when she felt as though her whole world had been shattered?

"Hey…" she answered suspiciously her eyes looking him over questioningly.

"What are you up to after work?" he pretended he hadn't noticed.

She however, remained guarded. "The usual," was all she gave – not wanting to give away any details that might help with whatever he was plotting.

"You wanna come over to my place?"

"No."

"Why?" he feigned sadness.

'Because it kills me to be around you, you idiot!' she thought bitterly. "What's the point?" she said evenly as she tried to control her emotions. She couldn't let him have control.

"I was thinking that just because we're not together anymore doesn't mean we can't, you know…'get-together' occasionally?"

Did he actually mean what she thought he meant? 'You have got to be kidding me…' she thought in awe as she raised an interrogative brown at him to elaborate.

He looked around uncomfortably and lowered his voice. "You know…'friends with benefits'." He answered like it was the most logical thing in the world.

She balked at him. In that instant she abandoned any plan to conceal her emotions. "Are you insane!" she wreathed. Did he have any idea how much pain he had caused her? How much it hurt to even be around the places they had frequented? And yet here he was – still trying to find a way to use her.

The creepy smile he had been wearing vanished instantly, replaced by a look of rage. "And why not?" he asked taking an attitude with her.

Her mouth dropped slightly as she shook her head in disbelief. She couldn't believe she had to explain herself to him. "Because I only sleep with someone if I'm in a relationship with them! If I care about them and I know they care about me too! You made it blatantly clear that you don't give a damn about me…"

He scowled. "Fine!" he declared coldly. "Then I guess I'll just have to call up one of my hoes!" He made some ridiculous gesture with his hand and stormed out, yanking the rope that hung from the door causing it to crash to the ground loudly.

She looked on in fury until her mind began to repeat back to her what he had revealed.

'One of his hoes..?' Did that mean..?

She felt her eyes well up with tears as she collapsed onto the cold concrete floor beneath her.

**xxXXxx**

Her supervisor had heard the door slam and come back to investigate, only to find Anna kneeling on the floor weeping. Anna told her everything because it made little difference at this point what she knew and Anna was just grateful to have someone there to listen. Her supervisor offered up the usual comforting words and phrases memorized perfectly after being mindlessly recited numerous times in moments when no real comfort can be had. Anna appreciated the effort but knew it was just all hollow talk.

Anna went back to the washroom and retrieved her helmet and unlocked the door, flicking the light switch on without thinking. She grabbed some toilet paper and blew her nose, throwing it forcefully into the garbage. She was about to push up her kick-stand with her foot when she caught sight of herself in the mirror. Her round cheeks still had tear stains on them and her green eyes were streaked with blood red lines obscuring the white. Her eyes were very puffy and made her look and feel tired.

Looking at her sad reflection in the mirror she felt spent. She _was _very tired. Not just physically but emotionally as well. She had kept hoping, kept wishing, for someone to save her all her life. To give her a reason to wake up in the morning and to bring her comfort and hold her through the night. Someone to bring back joy to her life which had eluded her for far too long.

She had thought her ex had been the answer but the cruel truth was that there wasn't and never would be anyone coming to her rescue. Reality was not like in books or movies – no spontaneous friends would appear when you needed them most. Our Lady Peace was right – Superman was, in fact, dead. The only person you could rely on was yourself to make you happy.

Unfortunately, she didn't feel particularly up to the task.

She flipped off the lights, casting the mirror and her reflection into darkness before walking her bike out of the room and shutting the door behind her.

**xxXXxx**

Anna shifted impatiently in the seat of her bike as she waited for her supervisor to set the alarm and lock the door.

All she wanted to do was get home and go to bed.

She unraveled her headphones that had previously wrapped around her IPod and placed one bud in each ear, checking for the 'L' and 'R' letters automatically. She kept the volume low as she watched her supervisor lock the door and wave her goodnight. She bid her goodnight too and clicked together the straps on her helmet before raising the volume up on the wire.

"Walk Away" by Five Finger Death Punch was sent streaming through her headphones and blaring into her ears. She scoffed in irony as she began to peddle the 20 minute ride home.

Thoroughly caught up in her melancholy post-breakup songs, she continued to contemplate her failed relationship obsessively as all the horrible repercussions circled through her mind.

It was perhaps, because of these all-consuming thoughts, that she failed to notice the traffic light change from cautioning yellow to crimson red.

She continued, oblivious, onto the road and into a black Infinity.

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><p><strong>Like my morbid joke on car model? Infinity – get it? ;) ….I'm terrible. <strong>

**Anyway, I'm sure by now you can tell I have a penchant for tragedy. Hopefully this was semi-believable and not too over the top. **

**Oh, and also, I deliberately left the boyfriend without a name. My sinister plan was to have you, the reader, envision a terrible ex of yours and use their name for his. **


	2. Of Metal Bars and Pointed Ears

**Hello again, **

**I do not own anything Tolkien related and I am only borrowing his amazing characters.**

**Something I forgot to mention before: Although this is way before LOTR and even The Hobbit I am not exactly sure what year this is all taking place. **

**I have done hours and hours…and hours…of research for various things and I vow I will try my best to keep things as genuine as possible but I may end up tweaking a few events. **

**Please bear in mind that the only time I have to research/write/revise/type/revise again is a grand total of 1.5 hrs a day during the week since that's how long my son naps for. Nighttime is a complete write off. So, having said that, I can only do so much research and still be able to write so I apologize in advance if something is not right or not exactly as it should be. **

**Anyway, more Author's Notes at the end of course, but without further delay…**

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><p><span><strong>Chapter 2: <strong>

**Of Metal Bars and Pointed Ears**

The first thing that registered was pain – an overwhelming pain that faded briefly only to intensify repeatedly. Her arm ached and her leg felt shattered. In fact, her whole left side felt painful yet oddly numb at the same time.

What had happened?

She searched her memories but could not find the answer. She tried to sit up. She _wanted_ to sit up. Laying down made her feel vulnerable and, despite her body's angry protest, she managed. It was only when she was sitting up when she was finally able to open her eyes for the first time. Fear had prevented her from doing so earlier successfully sitting upright had given her the encouragement she needed. She drew in a deep breath and opened her eyes.

Darkness.

No, not entirely. It was dark yes, _very_ dark, but she could faintly make out her surroundings, although as she did a wave of dread washed over her as she realized where she was: a cell.

She was a prisoner.

**xxXXxx**

She didn't know how long she had been in there since awakening: maybe hours, maybe days, or perhaps only 10 minutes. There were no windows and the continual darkness combined with the pain that radiated from her leg certainly made it _feel_ like years.

Why did her leg hurt so badly? In the darkness she couldn't tell the extent of her injuries but she had found, with some minor relief, that whomsoever had taken her prisoner had bound her leg, signaling to her that her captor (or captors) where not entirely without heart. The bandages had also stopped her from viewing the severity of the injury which she was hesitant to know.

Despair threatened to overtake her as she sunk her head into her one good hand. She was alone, in a cell, her only comforts a tiny bed and…a rather large ceramic pot placed in the opposite corner. Her eyes widened at the realization of just what _that _was for. She groaned. She couldn't go out in the open like this! And without…without…what? She felt as if someone had plucked the word from her head. She needed something more to use this 'toilet', something to clean herself with. It had a name. A specific name. Why couldn't she remember it? It frustrated her yet another thought occurred to her: even if she did have…whatever it was called, she wouldn't be able to get up to use it anyway.

Tears fell from her eyes like rain as she rubbed her hand against her face. What had happened to her? Was she going to be stuck here forever?

She shivered. It was getting colder.

Perfect.

She leaned her head back against the wall and sighed.

She stayed like that for some time until the sound of a heavy door opening accompanied by footsteps snapped her back to reality. She lifted her head and waited breathlessly as she strained her ears to listen.

The steps at first seemingly rather distant drew steadily nearer though they were eerie. The sound barely registered if not for an ever so slight 'pat' 'pat' sound and the 'chink' of tiny stones as the were kicked away haphazardly.

It was for this reason she thought the person still some distance away.

A tall many suddenly flew out from the right side of the bars causing her to recoil in surprise, her head smacking against the wall as she jerked backward.

"Argh! Nnnn…" she rubbed the back of her head with her right hand as her vision dotted over.

As she massaged her hand through her hair she became vaguely aware that the man was speaking to her but she hadn't noticed in time to understand any of it. She stopped and opened her eyes to look at the man. His face was dark and the seriousness at which his icy eyes glared at her rendered her speechless.

He frowned and looked annoyed as he awaited her reply impatiently.

She swallowed. What was it he had asked her? She briefly thought to ask him but the intensity of his cold blue eyes erased the thought as quickly as it had come.

An awkward silence permeated the air.

"I'm sorry," she squeaked out before realizing. "I didn't…I-I-"

"-I asked for your name!" he cut her off curtly. "I do not believe it is that difficult a question to answer. Unless," he paused, "you intend to lie to me."

W..h..a..t? She frowned in confusion. Lie? Why would she-

"-Your name Human!" he demanded again, his tone becoming sharper with anger.

"Human?" she repeated back absentmindedly. "Are you…not human?"

Now she was truly perplexed. What possible being could he be other then human?

The 'man' wrinkled his face up in a mixture of surprised and disgust.

"I am no Man," he said indignantly. "I am of the First Children of Ilúvatar. I am part of the ones known as Edhil."

She wondered if that should mean something to her.

When she didn't respond the 'man' tilted his head to the side and looked at her queerly.

"I am an Elf," he said flatly. "This is my home. Why have you come here? What purpose do you serve? And most importantly, _whom_ do you serve?"

"An elf?" she gasped in disbelief.

He arched a brow.

"You act as though you have never before heard the word..?"

"I…I can't say. I don't-"

"-What do you mean you cannot say?"

His face was once again dispassionate though his voice remained agitated.

"I don't know!" she yelled and immediately winced. Yelling at this man, er, 'Elf' who seemed so short on patience as it was, was probably a foolish idea.

He didn't react.

He wore a masque devoid of emotion, learned undoubtedly from years of hard training, gazing back at her with calculating eyes.

She tried again, composing herself.

"I don't know if I have heard of your…kind, before sir. In fact I can't recall much of anything it seems…"

He regarded her a moment before stepping closer to her cell. He placed his hand over a bar and slowly wrapped his long fingers around it, squeezing it ever so slightly. He leaned closer and rested his head between the bars.

"I do not believe you," he said coldly.

She shivered. He was beautiful. 'Ethereal', her mind supplied. His hair was golden and thick, done in an almost ritualistic styling with the upper half pulled back tightly while the remaining hair near the front of his face had been braided in a herringbone pattern down past his ears.

His ears!

She stared in absolute astonishment. His ears were pointed!

He turned his head gradually, taking note of her surprise and studied her.

She swallowed quickly and averted her gaze – scared of offending him further.

"Look at me," he commanded, though not unkindly.

She did as she was told and slowly brought her eyes to meet his. He had straightened himself yet still held onto the bar with his hand.

"I do not understand how it is a woman of Men cannot know what an Elf is. Have you not been educated of anything in this world?"

She frowned, acutely aware that she was being insulted. His lofty personality seemed to be in stark contrast to his delicate appearance.

"I don't know if I was educated regarding your race or not because I can't remember. I don't remember anything…"

She felt hurt. Here she was, completely scared out of her mind, having lost all of her memories, in horrendous pain and to add _literal_ insult to injury he was accusing her of being an idiot! Fear and pain began to be replaced by anger at the injustice of it all.

"You asked for my name," she shot. "Well I will not give it."

He frowned.

"I _cannot_ give it! I don't know what it is! I've told you many times already – I DO NOT KNOW! I don't know anything! Not my name, how old I am, where I am, or where I come from! All I know is: I woke up here in this _awful_ place in horrible pain…I don't even know why or how it happened! I'm alone…I'm…"

Her anger induced courage was quickly beginning to dissipate as she unleashed all her pent up frustration on this cruel Elf. She began to tremble violently.

"I'm cold as hell…and…and I'm so hungry," she choked out those last words before feeling hopelessness take over as she began sobbing madly.

The Elf felt a twinge of guilt upon his consciousness as he observed the pitiful scene before him. Even the weakest of enemies had taken days to break and put up a considerably better defense - but this, this was pathetic at best. She was no enemy spy, he decided glumly.

Sighing, he retrieved an old weathered key from his pocket and slid it into the metal lock. An echoing 'click' sounded as he pulled the door open and stepped it.

She hadn't noticed.

'Some spy,' he thought as he mentally chastised himself. He dropped down to his knees and placed a hand on her uninjured shoulder.

"It is alright…shhh," he gently soothed.

She cautiously raised her head to meet his gaze, her lips parting in awe as she drank in his beautiful features. His skin was flawless without any facial hair and nary a bump or freckle and his eyes which had only such a short moment ago seemed cruel and deadly as winter, had melted into such a kind and tender gaze.

"There you are," he softly mused. "Locked in my father's prison is no place to recover from such grievous injuries."

Without warning, he wrapped his arm around her back and pulled her toward him. Her heart quickened as she could feel him reach underneath her legs to lift her up.

"Come. I will take you to my chambers."

Nerves found their way once again into her heart as she pondered the meaning behind his words. Did they not have any spare rooms? Why must he take her to his own chamber? Would he..? She stiffened at the thought.

The Elf sensed this and stopped as he reached the doorway of her previous accommodations.

"I will not harm you…" he said evenly as if somehow wounded by her thoughts.

"I trust you," she lied.

"Do not say what you do not mean. I have given you absolutely no reason to trust me. I have not even told you my name."

She didn't know what to say and so she said nothing. Her silence acknowledging he was correct.

"I am Legolas." he said, making eye contact with her.

A brief feeling of recognition swept through her and in that moment she felt as if she really could trust him. When she realized she couldn't return a name to him she felt guilty.

"I'm sorry, I feel like I should tell you my name too, but I…"

"Do not worry. I believe you truly do not know your own name. I am sorry."

His expression was friendly and his eyes looked sympathetically down at her. She smiled up at him gratefully and was relieved that he finally appeared to believe her.

With her nerves finally calmed, she felt her anxiety drain away from her body, leaving her greatly exhausted as the rhythmic rocking that came with every step he took lulled her further and further into sleep.

In the corner of his eye he caught her as she finally surrendered to oblivion. He smirked at the childlike demeanour that immediately took hold across her youthful face.

"Losto vae, hiril vuin…" (Sleep well, my Lady)

**xxXXxx**

"Legolas!"

Legolas frowned and stopped in his tracks.

The prison warden stood above him glowering down at him from his post, his stern eyes moving from Legolas to the Human girl before locking eyes with Legolas' questioningly.

"She is in need of further healing. These bandages are not sufficient." Legolas said simply as he continued walking forward coming closer to the Warden, careful not to break eye contact.

The Warden, whose name perpetually eluded him, was a bitter person who saw little beauty in anything anymore it seemed. He was ever watchful and suspicious of all to the point Legolas wondered if there was anyone in this world he trusted.

"Is it necessary?" the Warden scoffed. "What does it matter what happens to some Human who was trespassing in our Lands?"

Legolas narrowed his eyes as they took on their familiar icy glare. Of course that's how he would see things.

"Are you questioning your Lord's wishes?" Legolas asked in a low voice.

A flash of concern swept across the Warden's face as he realized his mistake.

"No…please, it was not meant to be taken as such. Forgive me…" he bowed his head low concealing his face.

Legolas imagined it was probably contorted in anger but nodded anyway wishing to end this conversation.

"Very well. I am taking my leave now."

As Legolas passed him the Warden sighed inwardly. Questioning the Prince would not look good on his yearly assessment. Somehow, he did not think he would be off prison duty any time soon.

He sighed audibly.

**xxXXxx**

"Greetings Father," Legolas stated informally, announcing himself to Thranduil.

Thranduil raised a brow at his son's unusually airy greeting as he looked up from his writing desk to briefly acknowledge his presence.

"And to you as well, my son. What is it you wish?"

"It is regarding our prisoner, or more accurately, our 'new guest'."

Thranduil finished composing a letter, sealed it with the royal emblem, and set it aside before turning to give his son his full attention.

"And what of our 'new guest'?"

Legolas cast a quick glance at his father's desk, noting its current state of disarray.

"Celeborn and Galadriel," Thranduil informed him dully.

"Ah. Forgive my curiosity."

Thranduil pushed himself back from his deck but remained seated. He propped an elbow on the desk, holding the quill lazily in his hand.

"Indeed you should be curious my son - much more so in fact." Thranduil said glaring at Legolas disapprovingly. "Your _lack_ of _curiosity _regarding the affairs of your own kingdom alarm me greatly-"

"-Father! How can you say that?"

"Because it is true, is it not?"

"No, it is not," Legolas countered hotly.

Thranduil waited with minor intrigue for him to continue.

"How can you say that I do not care about my people? My home? When every day I go out to defend her from those creatures that threaten to overtake her?"

"It is not simply of spiders and orcs which I speak when I tell of an ever encroaching threat…"

Legolas brown knit in the middle.

"You…cannot mean Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel?"

"And _why_ can I not!?" Thranduil shouted sitting straight up in his chair piercing the quill deep into the oaken deck, the force of which allowed it to stand freely as he moved his hand away from it, rising to his feet.

"I do not trust Noldor elves, regardless of which bloodline they are descended from."

"Father…" Legolas began hesitantly. "I do not believe the Lord and Lady wish to conquer us. They can offer aid-"

"-_Aid_ you say? Of course this would be well within their capabilities. Their land is well nourished by that accursed ring which _the Lady_ bears- that alone is proof of her devious nature. But alas! My son, where we to so naively seek their assistance I guarantee you they would not send aid, but rather an army. That army would pretend to assist us in eliminating various _problems_ that dwell hidden in our forest but with an army comes upkeep: provisions, housing, and things of the like. And soon my son, they will become overly familiar and begin to think of our lands as their very own. We will have lost without even realizing we were being invaded…" Thranduil whispered staring off into the distance as paranoia took hold.

Legolas watched with resignation and held his tongue. It was useless to question his father further when he became like this – especially in matters which concerned the Noldor. His father's hatred for them was an unfortunate sentiment inherited from his own father, Oropher.

It was a sentiment Legolas did not share in.

His thoughts were interrupted by his father's sudden question.

"What of this 'guest' you spoke of?"

It took a moment for Legolas' thoughts to shift from pondering an end to his father's relentless hatred back to their Human guest.

"Ah, yes…" Legolas shifted his stance to convey that in speaking he was doing so as a soldier of Mirkwood and not as the king's son. With feet together and shoulders back he delivered his report on their latest captive.

"This morning's interrogation of the suspected intruder went as follows: Upon questioning her name she was indirect and deflective. As I continued to press her she outright refused to give me a name. "

Thranduil frowned and Legolas continued.

"Upon further questioning it became apparent that it was not simply a lack of co-operation to relay her name but rather an inability so to do."

Thranduil's frown deepened into a scowl.

"Legolas, I am in no mood for riddles." he warned him sounding tired.

"Of course, my Lord, forgive me. It would appear she has lost her memories."

"Lost her memories?"

Thranduil's eyes narrowed as he considered this. He did not seem entirely convinced, Legolas observed. Was this what the girl had observed in himself a mere hour ago? A slow dawning of realization came over him that he had far more apologizing to do to her than previously thought.

"Son," Thranduil addressed him seriously. "Do you believe that she speaks the truth?"

Legolas paused thoughtfully before answering honestly.

"Yes, I do."

Thranduil nodded to himself as he considered the information carefully and walked out onto the balcony coming to rest upon the parapet. Gazing out across his land he could see the sun was slowly losing sway to the night as the forest began to stir anew with the various nocturnal creatures that dwelled within.

"Forgotten…or was _made_ to forget?" he pondered under his breath.

Legolas remained inside watching him curiously. It could not be easy for his father. The attacks by the as yet unknown enemy had become far more frequent and the only real hope they had in retaliation lie at the hands of the people his father detested most. No matter which course he were to take, it appeared their doom was at hand.

"What is the prisoner's – the 'guest's' condition?" Thranduil inquired wearily.

"She cannot walk. Her left leg is broken in numerous places, her left shoulder has been dislocated, and I believe several ribs may be fractured – if not broken entirely."

"You have called for a healer?"

"Naturally."

"Very good. We will house her until her physical recovery. It is logical to presume that her injuries were the result of an attack sustained within our boarders and though her presence was uninvited, we must show compassion and take responsibility. Evidently we have not adequately secured the outer perimeter as well as we had come to believe."

"I understand. Though, if I may?" Legolas questioned, not wishing to repeat his prior mistake.

Thranduil nodded allowing the question.

"Why only her physical recovery? What of her mind?"

Thranduil bobbed his head methodically as though anticipating the question.

"My son, we cannot know when, if ever, she will recover her memories. I do not wish to seem cruel, however, _she_ does not even know who she is – that is a concern for us. For while not wittingly realizing it, she may yet be working with our enemy against us."

'And what enemy is it you speak of?' wondered Legolas bitterly. 'The real threat or the imagined one?'

"And what if she is simply what she appears to be? A frightened child with naught friend nor family? Can we so idly abandon her?"

"Legolas, do you not think that we have enough concerns of our own without adding to the burden?"

Legolas hesitated, knowing his father was right but not liking the idea any more.

"We cannot save everyone," Thranduil said softly as he returned to his son's side. He wrapped his arm around Legolas' shoulders and drew him close. "If you try to save everyone you will end up losing yourself."

Legolas placed his hand overtop his father's which yet held his shoulder.

"Perhaps Father, it is when you _fail to help others_ that you truly lose yourself?"

Thranduil withdrew his arm and walked abruptly away from his son.

"Until she is _physically_ healed, Legolas. When Nestor deems it so she will be gone the very next morning – memories or no," he added quickly. "Until that time…sleep well my son."

"Until _tomorrow_," Legolas corrected indicating he was not through discussing the matter.

"Rest well, Father."

With no more words left between them Legolas took his leave.

He closed the door behind him electing a heavy 'thud' from the wooden structure as if it were emphasizing the finality of the discussion.

In truth it was not the girl he that concerned him so, more so his father's attitude toward the situation. His sense of responsibility was still there but his sense of compassion was as sand in an hourglass growing ever more diminished as time passed. Conversely, his paranoia regarding Celeborn and Galadriel was on a steady incline. He had never been very fond of them to begin with as they held very different beliefs – Galadriel's Noldor heritage only adding to the fire.

Though Legolas would not freely admit it to anyone, he feared that his father, after thousands of years of hardship, was descending into madness. If only he could rid his land of this taint would his father be free.

Legolas sighed dejectedly. Easier thought than done. There was no guarantee even if, by some miracle, he were to banish the Darkness that his father would regain his spirit. Perhaps he was lost forever…

Legolas shook his head as if to strike the very thought down.

No.

He could not lose hope. He _must not_ lose hope. For if he did, then these things which he so feared would surely come to pass.

He decided he needed a distraction to clear his mind of dark thoughts and visiting their new guest could prove to be exactly what he needed.

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><p><strong>And that's the first chapter! I'll admit, I'm not entirely happy with it – some parts seem really rough but my mind isn't co-operating. <strong>

**A few notes (because I over think things WAY too much)…**

**Comma use! I feel as if I use too many…but when I read it in my mind those are where the pauses are. So, I guess maybe I'm guilty of using the "Shatner comma"? **

**Toilet paper. Yes, that's the word she couldn't remember. Somehow, I can't see Hobbits and Dwarves going to the market to pick up a pack of Charmin. I figure Elves at least would have something akin to it (being that they are so advanced). However, I honestly didn't want to spend too much time thinking on the bathroom habits of the residents of M.E. ;)**

**Legolas hair style. I realize this is more of a movie thing probably but since hair seems to be something elves take pride in then I imagine they'd like showing it off. As someone with long hair, I can attest that it does get in the way sometimes so that's why I like the idea of half up half down as it gives the best of both worlds. **

**Hell. 'Anna' said 'hell'. I debated using this description and opted to leave it in. Originally I was hesitant to use it because it's more of a religious background but I deliberately didn't capitalize it as a noun (place) and so I'm removing that aspect and having it act simply as a swear word so I think that works.**

**Anyway, thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed. :) **


	3. Of Archaic Practices & Vile Vials

**Hello!**

**Thanks to my followers and I hope you enjoy this! Also special thanks to Dina for the review. :) **

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything Tolkien related and this story is purely for entertainment devoid of profit. **

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><p><strong>Chapter 3:<strong>

**Of Archaic Practices and Vile Vials**

As Legolas ascended the steps to his chamber he could see a faint light emanating from the narrow opening of the door. He approached and opened the door slightly and, remaining in the hallway, peeked behind the door. Candles has been lit and placed at either side of his bed to provide extra light as the healers worked diligently while the girl, still unconscious, lay still in his bed. Her leg had been redressed and now was adorned with a splint while the second healer, an apprentice, examined her left shoulder.

Seeing her like that in the warm candlelight she looked almost peaceful – how he wished he could feel like that. Then again, the calm present in her face was only an illusion and while she would heal much faster with the assistance of these skilled healers, she would undoubtedly experience pain for a long while after- assuming her injuries were to the degree he had suspected.

Legolas watched with fascination as the apprentice began twisting her arm at odd angles for a moment before finally pulling at it with great force. An audible 'pop' could be heard even from where he stood and Legolas grimaced.

'Thank the Valar she was not awake for that,' he thought as he shook his head.

"My Lord!"

The senior healer had noticed Legolas first and walked over to greet him.

"Nestor, how fares she?" Legolas asked the tall dark-haired elf before him.

Nestor frowned as he keenly observed his patient from the corner of his eye.

"In all my years I have never before seen such an odd wound. The pattern of break in her leg…I am at a loss as to what could have caused such a thing."

"Could she have been travelling by horse and have been thrown?" Legolas pondered as he followed Nestor's gaze.

Nestor shook his head assuredly.

"No. This break, if it can be called such, is not clean. Even despite the main break there are multiple fractures and then there are her ribs and arm to consider. Whatever caused these injuries was very powerful…" he concluded ominously.

"Powerful? As if…by magic were these injuries rendered?" Legolas asked carefully, once again eyeing the unconscious human.

"I cannot say for certain, my Lord. And yet I cannot rule that out either."

Legolas eyes grew cold and distant as a growing anger spread forth inside of him coupled with a deep sense of violation. What new evil was sent to infest his lands and how long before it attacked his own kind?

"Thank-you, Nestor." Legolas said only half paying attention to the solemn elf.

Nestor bowed and motioned for his apprentice to follow him.

"I have left her a serum for the pain; however… it must be administered upon her awakening. I fear if I were to give her some now she would not be able to swallow it."

Legolas nodded in understanding and watched as the apprentice reached the doorway and, mimicking his mentor, bowed deeply to him before retreating into the hallway.

By now the last of the sunlight had faded and the sky had grown dark as a cool breeze swept through the open doors causing the curtains to billow. Nestor's apprentice had placed a warm quilt over the human, probably while Legolas had been speaking with his superior.

Legolas walked over to his bed and sat down near the end, careful not to touch her injured leg. The room was quiet and the only sound came from a clock on the far wall- the rhythmic ticking almost putting him into a trance.

He sighed again and turned his attention away from the girl and to the small vial Nestor had left her.

Concealed within its delicate walls was a yellow-green liquid the likes of which would most certainly be unpleasant tasting. Grimacing at the thought, Legolas reached over and plucked the vial off the table letting it roll about in his hand. He watched as the ill-coloured liquid shifting about with the motion until finally it stilled and he held it up to examine it more closely.

It looked even less appealing than he had previously thought - if that were at all possible.

"You will not enjoy this…"

He spoke sympathetically to his sleeping companion. It was then that his attention turned on her once more as he returned the vial to its place and examined her more closely.

There was nothing overly remarkable about her. Her hair was a light shade of brown with streaks of blonde intermingled in an oddly structured fashion and, in comparison to an elf's hair, her hair was rather short, only just reaching past her shoulders. It was currently in a state of disarray and was in great need of brushing.

Legolas smirked at the thought and brushed a stray strand away from her face and behind her ear.

A line began to form on his forehead and his eyes narrowed as he stared in confusion at her ear. Near the top were two small earrings resembling tiny stars with clear white gems incased in a silver holder.

Legolas withdrew his hand and repositioned himself to get a better look.

"What purpose does this serve..?"

His tone betrayed his disapproval as he stood and walked to the other side of the bed, curiosity getting the better of him. He bent to brush the hair back behind her right ear and his eyes widened greatly. He unconsciously let go and took a small step back. The thought of how painful _that_ must have been caused him to scowl.

"What in the Valar was the purpose of _that_?!" he cursed.

She didn't reply.

"Valar…" he shook his head; clearly there were things he had yet to learn about human society.

In that moment Nestor returned, gently tapping on the door to alert his prince to his presence.

"Ah! Nestor! Your timing is impeccable. You have had dealings with humans far longer than I- take a look at this and give me your opinion."

Legolas was glad he had chosen to arrive in that moment as he was deeply curious over the meaning to these…piercings.

Nestor walked over to where Legolas stood and followed his prince's gaze. Legolas watched as the experienced healer's face contorted and Legolas sighed inwardly as he realized Nestor did not posses any more knowledge on the matter than he.

Nestor stared at it in greater length than Legolas as if somehow trying to disseminate some sort of explanation. His befuddled expression told Legolas that he had none.

Rising, Nestor shook his head.

"I am sorry my Lord, I cannot, for the life of me, understand why any creature would willingly subject themselves to such a primitive act."

Evidently Nestor had been even less impressed by the piercings than Legolas.

"That part of the ear is known as the 'Tragus'. And I cannot fathom why it should need adornment. Perhaps, it is venerated in her culture, though I cannot say _why_."

The corner of Legolas' mouth twitched, and he briefly considered drawing attention to her other ear to watch the elder elf's reaction. He decided against it as he watched him bend to further scrutinize it.

"Perhaps it is some sort of crude tagging, much like how humans brand cattle to identify what animal belongs to whom."

"Against her will?"

"It would seem unlikely one would consent to such a thing voluntarily."

"Perhaps that explains her other injuries then…if she escaped from captivity, or attempted to, she would be severely reprimanded, no?"

"It is likely my Lord."

"Poor creature…" Legolas gently placed a hand on her face and slowly traced her jaw line with his fingertip.

Nestor watched him in mild surprised. The glint in his prince's eyes, so often seen during battle, had returned. What could have provoked him so?

"Nestor."

Nestor snapped back to attention and shifted uncomfortably at the realization that Legolas had caught him staring.

"My Lord?"

"You may go. If I should require your assistance…"

"Then you shall have it. But my liege…"

Nestor trailed off in uncertainty.

"Yes?"

Legolas regarded him patiently.

Nestor hesitated then must have decided his question wasn't worth asking.

"It is nothing. Forgive me."

"Please continue." Legolas prompted.

Nestor was reluctant to continue but obeyed.

"If I may ask…is your intent to see to her personally, my Lord?"

"That is correct."

"Why? That is to say, you need not go to the trouble as we servant's would gladly attend to her ourselves. We do not wish you to be unduly burdened."

Legolas smiled kindly.

"I am well aware, thank-you. Please be assured, I do not question your ability to care for her. It is rather…a question of ethics. She was injured within our boarders and possibly at the hands of our enemy. If we had been more diligent in our duties we may very well have prevented this. Besides, the nature of her injuries worries me…" he glanced back at the human's ears before continuing. "She may have information useful to us. If I can earn her trust it is likely she will confide in me and perhaps we would have access to information otherwise deemed inaccessible to us."

Nestor closed his eyes and bowed low.

"Very wise, my Lord. As you wish."

With that Nestor left and Legolas walked toward the balcony doors and gazed at the stars in thought. They were so distant, so removed from earthly concerns. They shone as brilliantly and beautifully regardless of whether Arda was warring or at peace. And yet they seemed somehow…lonely.

He chucked to himself. Maybe he was merely projecting his own feelings upon them.

He grasped the handles and drew the door in, closing them carefully and gave a final tug to confirm in his mind that they were secure.

He cast one last glace at his sleeping companion.

"I believe you have the right idea." he said sighing.

He stepped lightly over to her side and placed a small kiss on her forehead.

"Ollo vae, hiril vuin." (Sweet dreams, my lady.)

Legolas stood and was met with his reflection in an adjacent mirror. He regarded himself in the mirror with a bemused smile.

"Now…why did I do that?"

**xxXXxx**

It was late in the afternoon of the following day when the girl finally began to stir. Legolas, who had been dozing in the chair nearest the window, refocused his eyes and watched as she rubbed her forehead with her right hand.

"Na veduil! Av-osto…" (At last! Don't be afraid)

She held her hand to her forehead and stared at him blankly through her fingers.

"I'm sorry, I don't understand…"

Legolas shook his head at his foolishness.

"Forgive me; I forgot that you cannot speak Sindarin. It is not often that we have human visitors."

"It's fine…"

She trailed off and resumed massaging her head with her fingers. She felt better than she had the last time she had awoken, but a nagging ache still lingered throughout her body.

"Are you in much pain?" the elf asked gently.

She rubbed her head again and tried to look at him but found it was difficult. Partly because any small movement sent her vision blurring and a sharp pain pierced her skull but she was also frightened. He did seem friendlier than before but she was still cautious.

"Here," he said as he got up. "Nestor, our healer, left this for you."

She watched him cross the room and come toward her. Nerves began to wriggle about inside her and she unconsciously pulled the cover up closer to her face.

"Do not worry," the elf said without looking at her. "I will not harm you…"

He stood beside her now and she watched as he reached down and picked up a tiny glass container. She wasn't sure, but she could have sworn he looked hurt. She felt a little guilty, however, she still felt justified in her defense.

The elf twisted the glass top off the container and offered it to her. She examined the glass suspiciously before at last taking it. It didn't look very appealing and she was dubious.

"For your pain. It will help, though, I cannot say that it will taste very good…"

She hesitated then nodded, sighing. The elf grasped her wrist lightly and placed his other hand under her shoulder and helped her to sit up. She winced as she felt her muscles crack and stretch inside her and it took a minute to catch her breath; all the while debating if she should actually drink this concoction of who-knows-what.

In the end though, the desire for relief cancelled out any misgivings and she downed the vial in one shot. She felt it immediately burn her throat and she hunched over in a fit of coughing. The elf gently rubbed her back.

"I do not think it was meant to be taken all at once…"

Eventually her coughing subsided and the elf helped her lie back down (though not entirely as she insisted an extra pillow be placed behind her head to avoid lying down completely). Their eyes met as he adjusted the additional pillow for her and she quickly looked away.

Legolas' eyes dropped as he stared at the stone floor in dismay. Was she really _that_ frightened of him? He realized he had yet to apologize for his earlier behaviour. Perhaps an explanation would alleviate some of her fears.

"I am deeply sorry for my actions when first we met."

The elf announced suddenly, catching her off guard. Was he actually apologizing to her? He had bowed to her with his hand across his heart and remained in that position awaiting her response. She wasn't sure what to say. She could say it was fine – she _should_ say it was fine and that would be the end of it…but truthfully she couldn't forgive him, at least, not without first knowing more about the circumstances surrounding her imprisonment.

"Why…why did you put me in there in the first place?

Her voice wavered as she strained to control her emotions making her throat dry and constricted.

Legolas stood up and let his arm fall back down at his side.

"I did not know if you were friend or foe."

"So you threw me in that cold cellar without even asking?!" she asked incredulously.

His face was expressionless as he spoke, his voice cool and matter-of-fact.

"You were in no position to answer. When I happened upon you, you were already unconscious. It is likely if I had not come upon you first that you would have perished from the elements or have become some creatures' dinner."

"Creatures?" she asked fearfully.

"Yes," he said simply as he crossed his arms and shifted his weight to one leg. "The forest is not a place to enjoy leisurely strolls. It is teaming with such horrors as giant spiders, orcs, and numerous unnamed fell creatures of darkness."

She looked up at him horrified.

"Then _why_ do _you_ live here?"

"It was not always so…" his eyes looked off in the distance as he recalled earlier times.

"Once this land was called Greenwood the Great. It was founded by a small group of Silvan elves and later my grandfather, Oropher, became their king. It was once beautiful- a land worthy of its name. Then darkness began to fester and spread and the forest became corrupt and fell into shadow. We have been battling it ever since."

"Is that what you were doing when you found me? Fighting?"

"In that moment – no. We make daily patrols and are ever watchful to keep the enemy at bay."

As she envisioned herself lying helpless in such a dangerous place her skin began to crawl.

"Thank-you…"

Her voice was hollow as she imagined what horrors could have befallen her had the elf not happened upon her.

The elf said nothing but continued to watch her thoughtfully.

"For saving me…bringing me here. I guess it was probably more trouble to have taken me along than it would have been just to leave me there."

"Indeed it was," he agreed quickly. "However…it would not have been right. Understand, it was a risk. We did not know if you were aligned with the enemy or not and so we had to take precautions."

"Like putting me in a cell?"

He nodded.

"For a human to make their way through our parts is a rare thing. Few would risk the journey, for if the threat of ambush from orcs were not enough, most humans harbour an even greater fear of we elves."

"Do they have cause to?" she asked cautiously.

"Not as long as their intentions are pure." He said, shooting her a warning glare.

"You don't trust me? But, then why did you let me out?"

"Trust? No, I do not trust you. I do not know you and _you_ do not know yourself," he paused letting his words sink in. "I also do not believe you are lying. My heart tells me you are honest, or at least, _you believe_ you are. You still have not told me your name-"

She made to defend herself but he anticipated her reaction and waved a hand to dismiss her protests.

"I understand you cannot tell me. But you must also understand that that is a concern for us. Though you may not wish to betray us, you may ultimately end up doing so regardless."

She considered what he had said before responding. He was entirely right, she realized with a sad heart. How had she managed to survive? If she was wandering through the forest (for whatever reason) and had been attacked then why wasn't she killed?

"In the meantime," the elf continued, interrupting her thoughts. "I cannot go about forever referring to you as 'our human guest'. If you cannot recall your name then you will need a new, temporary, one."

Her mind was still pre-occupied with questions about how she came to be here and when she tried to think of a name she drew a blank. She couldn't even remember this elf's name, let alone choose a new one for herself.

"What do you suggest?" she posed to him.

The elf raised a questioning brow at her.

"You wish me to name you?"

"Yes, yes I do."

"What if you do not like what I have chosen?"

"It's only temporary right? Besides, I can change it later if I want."

"Very well…I suppose this could be considered an epessë name…"

"…that's not the name, right?" she looked doubtful at the strange sounding word.

The elf laughed.

"No, my lady, it is not. An 'epessë' name is a name bestowed upon an elf that is a title of honour. It is actually an old Quenya word but the tradition has been around for centuries spanning all races of elves. Though you are not of Elvish blood."

"…and I don't know how honourable I am…" she muttered bitterly.

Legolas' expression sobered.

"Then it shall be an encouragement to live up to and, thinking on it, I believe I may have come up with an appropriate name."

He came and sat beside her on the bed and she felt uneasiness return as soon as he sat. He noticed and smiled reassuringly, studying her.

"Yes…I believe it will fit. I shall call you 'Caliel'."

"Caliel?"

That sounded better than 'epessë' but she still wasn't sure about it and looked to the elf for clarification. His eyes glistened knowingly.

"It is a name meant to inspire and comfort you for I know you are scared and confused. 'Caliel' means 'daughter of light'. For in speaking with you now, I can see your spirit is kind, though perhaps…a little lost."

Legolas saw her gaze drop as she silently questioned his words so he decided to speak simply.

"I believe there is good in you, Caliel. Do not despair, you are not alone."

He grasped her hand and gave her a reassuring squeeze while looking her firmly in the eye. 'There's those eyes again', she thought as all fears drifted away.

"Legolas?"

A voice called from over by the door causing him to turn his head toward it.

"Nestor! Enter. She has regained consciousness." Legolas said standing to greet him.

As the dark haired elf made his way toward her, Caliel closed her eyes.

'Legolas', she repeated in her mind.

I will not forget that name again.

**xxXXxx**

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><p><strong>Hmm, a little sappy I think, but I can see Legolas being a bit of a sap. ;)<strong>

**Anyway- notes!**

**Ear piercings! So I've read other stories theorizing that Elves have, um, 'sensitive' ears. I like this theory, though I guess there's nothing really to support it. It makes sense in my mind because I liken Elves to Ferengi in this regard. So if they did have ultra sensitive ears then the thought of piercing them with a large needle would probably be horrifying. I think it's the equivalent to a guy getting their you-know-what pierced. I mean, that makes **_**me **_**wince and I don't even have those parts hahaha! So because of that I think they'd be pretty disapproving of it like a strict, traditional parent. **

**Hiril vuin I've read literally means 'my lady' though it also could be taken as 'beloved lady'. Coincidence? ;)**

**Epessë. I remember reading about how Elves had different names and I don't think this practice is entirely restricted to only High Elves..? Like having a different name from their mother or father etc. I know it's a Quenya word but I think it's one of those things that may happen among society in general like drinking chocolate. I recall hearing that it was once reserved for only royalty but obviously nearly everyone has had a cup of hot chocolate before so that's not the case anymore. **

**I think that's all….. :) **


	4. Of Actions and Consequences

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything Tolkien related and this story is purely for entertainment devoid of profit. **

**Thank-you to everyone reading this and to my reviewers. **

**Wildlifer- Yeah, I've typed out 18 pages of the hand written stuff while I'm on page 88 for where I currently am at writing. And then there's like 20 pages front and back of plot notes and research info and drawings (visuals help sometimes hehe). I'm 90% sure Gandalf will be in it but probably later rather than sooner. As for her having any special knowledge of events to come…umm, yes and no. That probably doesn't help haha!**

**Dina – Glad you liked it. :) **

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><p><strong>Chapter 4:<strong>

**Of Actions and Consequences **

The elf called Nestor now stood beside Legolas and smiled warmly as he greeted Caliel.

"How are you feeling, my dear?"

He was taller than Legolas with long black hair pulled back into a loose braid while smaller strands fell near his face. His eyes were a pale shade of grey and though he did not look any older than Legolas, there was something about his presence that conveyed to her he possessed a great deal of knowledge and wisdom. His voice was smooth and deep and his demenour was one of utmost professionalism.

"Much better than before, thanks," she replied politely.

"The pain is no longer bothering you?" he asked pointedly.

She had been completely focused on her conversation with Legolas that she hadn't even noticed the pain slowly fading away to nothing.

"No," she gasped in sudden realization. "It doesn't hurt at all."

"That particular herb is potent- both in efficacy _and_ taste." Nestor said smirking.

"No kidding…" she mumbled.

She doubted this was the first time he had made that quip and wondered if he would ever tire of it.

"Nestor," Legolas addressed him sternly.

Nestor's smile faded and he became serious once again.

"Yes my Lord?"

"She still has not yet recovered her memories," Legolas began softly.

Nestor bowed his head, understanding what Legolas was getting at.

"For that, I have no answer. While Nodir, my apprentice, was tending to her I had time to examine her head. There was a small abrasion near the top but I do not expect that would have caused her memory loss."

Caliel recalled her surprise at Legolas' sudden appearance at her cell and lightly touched the back of her head. She winced as she now felt rather foolish about her over reaction.

"Then what could have happened to cause it?" Legolas queried.

"If not physical then that leaves psychological. As for what that reason may be, only…"

Nestor trailed off when he realized he did not know her name.

"Caliel," she supplied as she caught onto his dilemma.

Nestor tilted his head, intrigued.

"Legolas named me. I don't remember what my real name is."

"I…see."

Something in the way he spoke those words indicated to Caliel that he was more than mildly amused and she didn't know why, but she felt a little offended.

"At any rate," he continued, resuming his usual calm, "I expect the only way they will return is if you confront that which your mind has blocked out."

"But if she cannot remember anything then how will she know what she is to confront?"

Legolas had beaten her to the question and Nestor's eyes wandered off as he considered the problem.

"Perhaps," he began tentatively, once again turning his gaze upon them, "If she were to be in a familiar setting – familiar sights, sounds, smells – she could glimpse but a little into her past. That may be the door she needs to open her vault of memories."

'Vault of Memories?' Yes, that phrase alone confirmed he was older than Legolas- much older – and also possessed a flare for the dramatics.

"I suggest, once she is well enough of course, you expose her to as many different things as you possibly can. Even the minutest detail may hold the key."

'Hold the key to my Vault of Memories', she thought sardonically. Was it really that easy? She very much doubted so.

"Where did you find her?"

"Near a ditch by a creek toward the inner heart of the forest," Legolas relayed.

"You may find some clues there. However…it may be…too dangerous."

Legolas knew that Nestor's words held double meaning. True, the inner sanctum of the woods was the home of countless foul creatures, but moreover, returning with her there could very well be a trap.

"I cannot risk it," Legolas decided firmly.

Nestor appeared visibly relieved.

"That is wisest. Now," he turned to Caliel, "You have not eaten since your arrival. Is there anything specific you would like, my dear?"

Food! Oh, glorious food!

"Whatever you have immediately available," she spoke hurriedly.

Nestor looked bemused and Legolas laughed at her exuberance.

"I shall inform the kitchen staff."

With that Nestor bowed to her, then Legolas, before taking his leave.

Legolas was still grinning at her.

"Sorry," she said feeling embarrassed.

"No, do not be. It was an…_honest_ reaction. It is refreshing to think that such a simple thing could elect such joy in you."

Caliel shot him a look.

"Are you calling me 'simple'?"

Legolas looked shocked then nearly tripped over himself apologizing.

"T-that is not what I had meant to convey," he stammered.

Now she laughed at him.

He quit trying to explain and gave up, yet continued to regard her with an odd expression and after an awkward silence she grew uncomfortable at his unwavering stare.

"What..?" she asked shyly.

Legolas opened his mouth to speak but closed it quickly and forced a smile, shaking his head.

"It is nothing."

He turned toward the hall door and began to walk toward it, stopping beneath the archway.

"After you finish eating I shall send word for a bath to be drawn for you. There are some oils that will speed the healing time and it will no doubt be a great comfort to you."

She appreciated the thought but she didn't think she could even get out of bed, let alone make her way to a bath chamber and she wasn't exactly keen on having some complete stranger manhandling her.

"I will come back for you."

His voice was low with a gentle, delicate concern that calmed her. The thought of him being so close to her in such a vulnerable state frightened yet exhilarated her and she smiled letting her face betray her thoughts.

She gasped as she realized he was still staring at her and blushed, praying that mind reading was not an Elven trait.

"B-but, what about my cast?"

She placed her hand over the sheet gesturing toward her injured leg. She hoped he would forget her seemingly random smile.

"You need not worry. The material is unable to be penetrated by water."

"So it's hydrophobic?" she asked, surprise hitting her the moment the unusual word left her lips. Where would she have learned that word? It didn't seem like one likely to be heard in everyday conversation.

Legolas raised a brow as he stared at her quizzically.

"I... suppose that word would be an accurate description…"

He waved it off but still he seemed uncertain and she mentally scolded herself. It didn't seem like a significant thing but the suspicion it had elected from Legolas made her dislike it. She needed his trust more than anything.

"Have you remembered something?" he asked carefully as he watched her intently.

"No," she said simply, though her voice was elevated as she racked her mind to find an answer.

"I see…"

Oh no, he didn't seem convinced!

Fear crept back into her heart as he kept his unblinking gaze on her.

"Very well," he shook off whatever thought had occurred to him. "Until then; take care, my lady."

He bowed to her and turned to close the door behind him. The echo that resounded resonated with her own feelings of hollowness.

She sighed in dismay.

Legolas stopped, then turned back toward the door, hesitating.

No, he wouldn't push her anymore for now. If she happened on that word without trying then perhaps the rest of her memories would return likewise. He wondered if he had been incorrect on his earlier assumption that she had been uneducated – that word was not one any common peasant would know, certainly.

Legolas' shadow stretched out before him, elongated by the now setting sun that radiated through the small carved windows. Dusk was quickly approaching and he decided he should report back to his father before dinner commenced.

**xxXXxx**

When he knocked on his father's door there came no reply. He tried again with the same result and so he cautiously peered inside but found only an empty, darkened room. His father was no where to be seen. It was still too early for dinner and so Legolas decided to try the only other place his father had been known to visit of late – the library.

As he made his way down the stairs he passed an elleth on her way up carrying with her a small silver tray of food. He nodded politely acknowledging her presence and she did likewise. Taking note of the tray's contents, Legolas smirked and wondered if that would even come close to satiating their voracious guest's appetite.

He walked onto the carpeted landing and went down another short set of stairs and entered the library.

Legolas took one look at his father's pensive form and immediately regretted his impromptu visit. Thranduil sat rigidly in a plush velvet covered chair near the window, his left index finger drumming loudly against the wooden scroll embedded in the arm of the chair. Thranduil hadn't acknowledged Legolas' arrival and so Legolas cleared his throat to speak.

"I know you are there," came Thranduil's sharp response.

'Oh yes, he was in a mood', Legolas thought glumly.

"What is it you wish?" Thranduil continued, cutting off Legolas' response.

Legolas' eyes became downcast and he frowned.

"I wished to see how you were faring, Adar…" Legolas spoke, his tone as low as his gaze.

"How I fare?" Thranduil continued on in an irritated voice. He seemed completely unaffected by Legolas' sad thoughts, having himself put them there.

"Since you are so incessantly curious about my health, I shall tell you."

Legolas shuffled his feet as he fixated on a crack in the polished floor beneath him. He could feel a lecture coming on.

He was right.

"To start with, I have the constant threat of attack by these horribly unnatural creatures whose only purpose is to cause me grievance. Secondly, if that were not enough, I have that Noldor elleth _breathing_ down my neck as every chance she gets to bind me to a forced alliance under the guise of combating these creatures-"

"-Perhaps she is right?" Legolas unwittingly interrupted.

The glare Thranduil gave him was enough to render the very blood of a balrog to little more than tiny fragments of ice.

"_Never_," he seethed, his eyes burning with cold fire.

Legolas at last raised his eyes to meet his father's challenge, though he remained silent. He could not agree with his father's unyielding opinion regarding the elves of Lórien– his claims were utterly baseless in present time.

Thranduil drew a calculated breath and exhaled slowly. He knew his son was in disagreement and it infuriated him to no end. His dogged refusal to ally himself with him - his own father- felt as though he were against him...as though the witch of Lórien has already corrupted his young mind.

"Thirdly…" Thranduil's voice floated about the air hauntingly as a palpable tension arose between the two. "I have received word only this morning of an attack upon the Eastern boarder patrol by a cluster of spiders."

Legolas felt concern slither into his chest as he listened intently to his father.

"Thank the Valar they were quickly dispatched-" Thranduil saw his son's features soften in relief. "However!" he warned, commanding his son's attention once again. "They were not without injuries. Raenion, a young ellon who only recently completed his training, was infected by a parasite caught from one of the attacking spiders. His condition remains stable but could change at any moment due to the insidiousness of the infection," he fell silent as Legolas absorbed all he had said. "And _you_ are the reason he is in this condition," he spoke in an accusatory tone.

Legolas felt pain strike his heart and his eyes shone with inner turmoil.

"What?" he questioned in disbelief.

"You heard me correctly, my son," Thranduil's voice was collected now but held an overtone of displeasure. "That ellon would not have needed to embark on a mission of such calibre before he had time to adequately prepare had _you_ been at your station as you were meant to. Your…_preoccupation_ with this human child has caused you to be negligent in your duties to myself, your home, and your fellow kin."

Legolas eyes widened and his mouth dropped as guilt slammed into him. The pointed claws of misery began to scratch at his heart, cutting him up inside. He had completely forgotten that the previous night his unit had been assigned to active duty. He should have been out with them; instead, he spent the night watching over the human. His father was right. This was all his fault. Another was suffering needlessly because he had forgotten his sworn duty to his people.

Unseen to Legolas, Thranduil's lips betrayed a ghost of a smile, which he quickly forced away, as he observed Legolas wrestle with his ensuing contrition.

"What can I do..?" Legolas' voice was a hoarse whisper as his throat tightened with emotion.

Thranduil narrowed his eyes.

"Tarry no longer. Resume your post as you are meant to and do not be negligent. You are not simply a warrior but a Prince, and you must remember this, for your actions affect not only yourself but all who dwell within these woods. Do you understand, _ion nîn_?"

"Yes Adar," Legolas affirmed, and then added with conviction, "I will let neither you nor our people down again. I will go to him and seek forgiveness and then when next my unit is on active duty I shall be the first one to arrive."

Thranduil nodded.

As Legolas strode out of the library a thin smile danced its way across Thranduil's lips.

"You are far too kind for your own good _ion nîn__…" _he mused. "Perhaps it is time to correct this?"

_**xxXXxx**_

Legolas' pace was quick as he made his way toward the Healing Halls. Various assorted pictures came and went from his view as he bounded from staircase to staircase. Why hadn't Nestor informed him earlier? Surely it must have been a mere half an hour earlier that he had seen Raenion, and yet he had given no indication of there having been anything wrong.

Legolas at last arrived at a stone archway that descended a short while into an open cavern. The ceiling had fallen away over the long years and allowed the faintest of sunlight through. A suspension bridge linked the stone landing he was on to a large wooden structure erected upon the opposite side. As he made his way carefully across, he could hear the rushing water below him. 'It must have rained again last night', he thought, taking no more notice of it.

With his feet once again firmly upon the stone floor, Legolas resumed his quickened pace. He pushed back the off-white sheers that acted as a door and entered the infirmary.

_**xxXXxx**_

As Caliel looked out the window absent mindedly she heard a soft rapping at the door.

'Food!' She thought happily. Oh at long last.

"Come in!" she called expectantly and observed a beautiful female elf carrying a broad silver tray full of wondrous goodies.

Despite her hunger, Caliel found it difficult to keep her eyes on the food as the woman came nearer. She was breathtaking with hair as black as the night, skin like alabaster, and eyes so deep blue they nearly seemed violet. Her lips however, were tightly pursed together and she seemed unhappy.

Caliel was curious.

The elf-woman stopped short of bringing the tray to her and instead placed it on a small desk below a mirror. Caliel immediately wondered how she was supposed to reach that, but was hesitant to bother this beautiful, angry elf.

Hunger got the best of her however and she found herself calling to the elf-woman as she began to walk away.

"Um, sorry I don't want to trouble you any more but…my left leg is broken so I can't eat at the desk so I was wondering if you could bring it to the bed for me…please?" Caliel added as sweetly as she could.

The elf-woman scowled. It hadn't worked.

Caliel kept looking at her awaiting her response. She kept staring back at Caliel.

Tick…tick…tick…went the oblivious clock. Caliel felt as though she had asked the woman to jump in a lake or something judging by the look on her face. Had she committed some horrible faux pas she wasn't aware of?

"Um, Miss?" she squeaked.

" You want to eat in bed?"

The woman enunciated each world separately as if not comprehending and Caliel looked about nervously uncertain what was going on with her.

"Your kind is really something," the elf-woman chided. "Not only are you personally looked after by the Prince himself - _and in his own bed no less_- but you insist on _eatting_ in it too! I cannot fathom what desolate hole you must have come from to deem such behaviour acceptable."

Caliel sat in stunned silence completely at a loss for words. 'Desolate hole?' she repeated in her mind. That seemed harsh for simply making a simple request. And a fully justified one she thought. Her cheeks flushed as she felt anger and no small degree of bewilderment arise within her. What was she _supposed_ to do? Hobble over there like a cripple and maybe manage to trip over herself only a handful of times? Who did this woman think she was and what the heck was her problem? All desire for nourishment evaporated and all she wanted now was for this woman to leave.

At least she had made a discovery about herself though – she was terrible at handling conflict.

"Never mind," she said dismissively. "I'll…figure something out."

"And would that _something_ involve the aid of our Prince?" she further questioned. "You cannot understand the troubles you humans cause us can you? Or perhaps you are simply incapable of comprehending. Of course not, you creatures think only of yourselves. Meanwhile, we have our own problems which you all are ignorant to and yet still you manage to add to our concerns. Fine! I will allow you to dine wheresoever you wish; for the sooner you have recovered, the sooner we will be rid of you. Where should I put this?" she jerked the tray forward and in doing so caused some drink to spill out of the glass carelessly.

"…Just right there is fine…" Caliel indicated with her good arm toward the desk and did her best to force a smile.

If she did anything else to upset this elf she feared she may no longer have a dinner to eat at all.

"Fine," she dropped the tray on the desk and left, leaving Caliel utterly stupefied.

After an extended wait to ensure the elf's complete departure Caliel sighed loudly.

"What the hell was _that_ about!?" she wondered aloud.

She looked over to her disheveled food tray and groaned. Why didn't she just tell her to put it on the bed? But she already knew the answer- she was afraid of the big, bad elf. The longer she stared, the further away it seemed. Her stomach growled and she frowned.

This wasn't going to be easy…

**xxXXxx**

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><p><strong>So just a few notes today I think. <strong>

**Ada versus Adar. My understanding is Adar means Father, while Ada is more informal, like Dad. **

**Ion nîn versus Ionneg. I've seen both and I'm not sure if one is 'more' correct than the other or not but I chose to use 'ion nîn' purely on the bases I like the sound and look of the word better. **

**Hope you enjoyed! **


	5. Of Insult and Illness

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything Tolkien related and this story is purely for entertainment devoid of profit. **

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><p><strong>Chapter 5:<strong>

**Of Insult and Illness**

When Legolas drew back the curtain his eyes immediately darted about looking for Nestor. His friend had some explaining to do. Luckily, he was not difficult to locate as there, thankfully, were not many patients at present.

Nestor spotted Legolas approaching and braced himself. He knew he would find out eventually, but he had secretly been hoping it would be at a time he was not there.

"My…Lord," Nestor breathed wearily.

"Why did you not tell me?"

Straight to the point as usual. Nestor bowed his head. There was no explanation really, he knew his Prince had other duties to perform and he did not believe Legolas was at fault- contrary to his father's opinion. Nestor drew a ragged breath and shrugged.

"In truth my Lord…I did not tell you because I thought there nothing _to_ tell. Injuries happen regularly to patrol units and unless there are casualties they are not deemed worthy of troubling you, your Highness."

Legolas' forehead wrinkled as he listened.

"My fellow kin's status is always important to me Nestor. If something should happen I wish to be informed – no matter the triviality."

Nestor looked regretful.

"My Lord…I fear if I were to inform you ever time then-"

"-then I will listen and assist if needed," Legolas said firmly.

Nestor was uncertain but nodded anyway.

"Yes my Lord," he consented reluctantly.

"Now," Legolas' tone softened and his face bore an expression of deep concern. "The young ellon that was infected – may I speak with him?"

"There is nothing to worry about my Lord," Nestor began dismissively but Legolas interrupted.

"Nestor, it is my fault he is in this predicament. I wish to see him to seek his forgiveness."

Nestor slowly began to shake his head.

"I am sorry, that is not possible. He is stable yes; however I have induced a healing sleep to ensure he stays that way."

"A healing sleep is not a routine procedure," Legolas countered. "It is only used when greatly needed. Though I do not know much of the healing arts, this I do know. When the body is able to heal itself it should be allowed to do so to remain strong. Interference in that is only acceptable in cases of great pain or risk-"

"-or risk of death," Nestor finished lethargically.

Legolas wasn't impressed his friend seemed to be making light of the situation.

"Firstly," Nestor correctly, "we intervene with the body's natural healing process all the time-"

"-I was not referring to broken bones-"

"-I know, I know –just the healing sleep. I was illustrating a point. Yes, if used too frequently the body will lose its ability to self-repair and depend solely upon magic for its recovery," Nestor's eyes passed over to the wall beside them where the young elf lay. "But nothing has ever been used on the boy before- _he will recover_," Nestor implored hoping to calm his Prince.

Legolas' followed Nestor's gaze.

"If you are so unconcerned then why the deep sleep?"

Nestor at last relented, seeing his Prince would just not let it go.

"…Because parasites are dangerous," he finally confessed.

Legolas listened intently as Nestor vindicated his suspicions.

"Parasites are unpredictable," Nestor explained. "They turn the body against itself in order to protect themselves from being destroyed. Any attempts to intervene medically will only damage him further." Nestor began to pace and gestured upward with his arms in frustration. "This particular parasite is insidious. It enters the body though an open wound - caused in this case by a spider's bite. It travels through the saliva and into the bloodstream. There, the larvae burrow into the muscle tissue and feed off the blood and if they perceive the _slightest_ threat they turn into cysts. They can lay in wait in this state for years…"

Legolas face darkened in a mixture of shock and repulsion.

"How do you destroy them?"

Nestor looked unsettled.

"With this type there are only two courses of treatment…and I am awaiting a response from his kin as we speak."

"And those options are..?"

"Either we treat him as best we can or allow his body to fight by itself. Treatment would consist of induced sleep, such as he is now, and then we would introduce powerful medicine directly into his blood at regular intervals. The treatment could, however, kill him…"

"Why would it do that?" Legolas' voice wavered and Nestor became solemn.

"Because when the parasites are killed they release a chemical that further increase the body's immune response- it sends it into overdrive essentially. Inflammation is the result. If there are still larvae floating around his blood stream then they could be in his brain…if they are, the result would be encephalitis – his brain would swell causing potentially permanent damage and…even death."

Legolas lowered his head as he felt a shiver run down his spine – that could have been him. Instead of Raenion it could have been him lying there with some unseen creature festering inside of him. Legolas could feel tiny fingers creeping slowly up his back at the thought. He swallowed hard and tried to shake off the queer feeling.

"You said that you could let him try to fight it off naturally? Is this truly an option?"

"It is an option yes…" Nestor placed his hand on his face and thought a moment before shaking his head and sighing. "It is a fight he is not likely to win. I told you before how the creatures turn into cysts once they realize they are under attack? Well, this includes any attack produced from an autoimmune standpoint –this is how they have evolved to survive. Our medication is infused with magic – a foreign substance not ordinarily found in the body, or at least, not normally found in the bodies of its usual victims. As such, the parasites have not developed a defense for it," Nestor paused, "but Raenion has some degree of magical ability within him- as do all Elves- but he hails from a noble family and thus the potential is stronger within him because of his blood. If he can harness that ability…he may have a chance."

"But would that also not endanger his life? As a medical intervention would? With…the inflammation?"

"Not to the same degree. If he were to fight them off himself it would take far longer to eliminate them completely. The inflammation would be lessened as the death rate for the parasite would be drastically slowed. Medicine would destroy them in a few days but the resulting inflammation would be far greater as the more parasites that are killed, the higher the chemical concentration released from the dying parasites that triggers the inflammation. The more slowly they are killed, the lower the levels. However…"Nestor trailed off and Legolas would tell he was nearing exhaustion. "If we do not eliminate them as quickly as possible the more time they have to wreak havoc within his body…"

"And so there is no easy solution it would seem…" Legolas surmised sadly.

"No, there is not; and that is why I remain here – awaiting further instruction from his kin. It is in their hands now."

After a prolonged silence Legolas posed a question that had arisen while he had listened to Nestor speak.

"Why did you try to hide the severity of his condition from me?"

"I…am aware your father blames you and I did not wish to burden you further. It was just one of those things that was unavoidable by fate. It is not as though you were being negligent on your part, after all, part of your duties include caring for any guests we may have – especially if they are injured."

"Nestor…" Legolas asked softly.

Nestor listened carefully wishing to ease his Prince's conscience any way he could.

"Do you believe I am distracted by this human woman? Do you truly believe I was not at fault?"

Nestor placed a supportive hand on Legolas' shoulder.

"No, I honestly do not believe you were at fault."

Legolas cast him a sideways glance.

"And regarding the woman?"

Nestor remained silent.

Legolas took that as his answer and began to walk away, allowing Nestor's hand to drop from his shoulder.

"My Lord," Nestor called as he walked to close the gap that had arisen. "To say that you are 'distracted' by her does not fully or accurately convey what I had felt when last you were together. I cannot fully articulate it into words as it was more a feeling…Yes, I could sense _something_ between the two of you."

Legolas didn't respond and so Nestor neared to face him.

"I believe she is important to you – that your fates have crossed paths. She needs you and I do believe you need her-"

"-Nestor, she is mortal, how can she possibly help me-"

"-I know. But, as I said, it was only but a vague feeling. I suppose there is little to base it on. At any rate, keep an open mind my Prince," Nestor grasped Legolas' shoulder once again and gave it a firm squeeze. He smiled, a little forced Legolas felt, before adding, "Why not go to her now? See how she is feeling? I will have a pain relief drought made up and have it sent to your chambers as a precaution."

Legolas nodded once then walked to leave. He stopped at the entrance before casting a glace over his shoulder.

"Nestor…thank-you…"

"Anytime, my Lord."

As Legolas pushed back the sheer at the entrance Nestor could hear the sound of rushing water flowing rapidly down beneath the cavern below him.

**xxXXxx**

Caliel blinked mindlessly as she tried to place the sound that had awoken her. Another knock on the door sounded before a cautious blond head peered through the opened door.

"My lady?"

Caliel felt her heat skip a beat. It was him! Thank whatever Gods there were it was not that ill-tempered she-elf again! She sat up stiffly from her unplanned cat-nap on the desk. It had taken all of her determination and strength to hobble her way over there after the grump had left her food so cruelly out of reach. Once she had reached the chair, and subsequently collapsed on it, she had quickly devoured the meagre meal and found herself overcome by exhaustion.

"I'm here," she answered him weakly.

'Why do I sound so terrible?' she wondered. She was injured and he was taking care of her and thus was well aware of her weakened state but it seemed to bother her now. Maybe the elf-woman's words had a ring of truth? Maybe she _was_ nothing more than a bother to him?

"Caliel?" he questioned in surprise as he observed her oddly chosen sleeping arrangement. "What are you doing at my writing desk?"

"Eatting," came her brief reply as she gestured her arm out over the now empty platter.

Legolas followed her hand and saw the tray's contents had been completely devoured. He stifled a grin as he recalled his earlier internal debate as to whether that was enough food or not. It would seem he had been correct.

"Was it to your liking?" he asked casually as he gently closed the door behind him before making his way over to her.

"Oh, yes! It was lovely, I don't know if I've had that jam before or not but I think that it could very well be my favourite," she informed him brightly, hoping he wouldn't notice how tired she felt.

"Good," he nodded satisfied. "But, why _are_ you sitting there?" he repeated as he crossed his arms studying her seriously. "Nestor advised you to take it easy for now and yet I find you have cleared half the length of the room in my absence. Care to explain yourself?"

Caliel looked back at the barren tray for answers. His eyes had that penetrating glint again and she wasn't sure what to say. On one hand she didn't want to lie to him but on the other hand she didn't want to get that woman into trouble- after all, if she was going to be the one bringing her food all the time who knows what she would do to it! And though there was a part of her who dearly loved the idea of the woman being punished she couldn't bring herself to do it. The things she had said –though poorly phrased- continued to become more accurate the longer Caliel thought about them.

Caliel looked back at Legolas apprehensively as he raised his eyebrows anticipating an explanation. She decided to tell him the truth but leave out certain details.

"The maid who brought it…_suggested_ it would not be proper to eat in your bed."

Legolas' brows furrowed.

"Why would it not? You are injured; it is not as though you are doing it by choice, rather, necessity."

'That's what I was trying to tell her!' she whooped mentally. Well at least she felt a little better now. She hadn't been out of line with her simple request after all. To his inquiries though, she merely shrugged.

"I didn't want to bother anyone," she replied meekly, hoping he'd accept that and drop the subject.

Legolas sensed he wasn't getting the whole picture. For her to limp all the way over there with a broken leg, sore arm, and damaged ribs, all under the pretense of 'not being a bother' was ridiculous. Also, why was she so nervous? Clearly something had happened.

"Caliel," he spoke firmly as he kneeled on the ground, bringing his eyes level with hers.

Her heart began beating faster at being so close to him and she relished being able to freely stare into his gorgeous blue eyes.

"Caliel," he said again and she was mesmerized. "Did something happen while I was away?"

The genuine concern in his voice touched her and that combined with his hypnotic gaze pulled the full truth out of her as if by magic.

"Nothing major, just…" she hesitated.

"Just?" he repeated questioningly.

"The woman –elf?"

"Elleth," he clarified helpfully.

"The…elleth, she refused to allow me to eat where I was and said that I was a selfish, ungrateful human who does nothing but cause trouble for you. But she did finally relent and ask where I wanted the food since, according to her, the faster I heal the sooner I'll be gone…but I felt bad and just had her leave it here…and so here I sit."

She watched Legolas face for his reaction as he knelt silently in thought.

"I will speak with her," he declared.

His voice was soft and yet it held an overtone of anger. 'Why would it upset him?' she wondered. 'Maybe he thinks it reflects badly on him?' She watched him stand back up then, without a word, he wrapped his arm behind her back and looped his other arm under her knees and lifted her up against him. Her eyes widened and her heart thud heavily in her ears as her head rested against his chest. He was so strong and carried her with such ease. His scent captivated her completely as she closed her eyes to appreciate it fully. She loved being in his arms and was saddened when she felt him lower her down on the bed and slide his arms out from underneath.

She opened her eyes and blushed as she saw him watching her with a curious expression. He thankfully didn't press her for an explanation but simply returned her awkward smile. His smile gradually faded but he kept staring into her eyes for several seconds, almost as if he were searching for something. Caliel held her breath as he flashed her a quick, half-hearted grin before dropping his gaze and walking away through a door opposite to where she lay.

"I promised you a bath, did I not?" he called from the room. His voice was once again light-hearted and when he returned his demenour had regained its usual airy confidence. From behind him Caliel could hear the sound of water running.

"You did…" she confirmed anxiously.

As Legolas approached her he began to roll up his sleeves.

"What are you doing!?" she couldn't hide the alarm she felt.

"Hmm, I suppose you are right. I do not think merely rolling up the sleeves will spare the garment."

His hands found the small black buttons at the top of his shirt and Caliel watched with breathless anticipation as his fingers began to skillfully unbutton his shirt. She realized her mouth was hanging open and hurried to close it before he noticed. She was suddenly feeling a little faint as she could now see a glimpse of his chest and stomach. His skin was completely smooth and she braced herself as he reached the last button before throwing his shoulders back and allow it to slide swiftly down his back and onto the floor.

Caliel's face burned and she knew she shouldn't be staring but she could not take her eyes off him. His deceptively lithe frame was actually quite toned with well defined chest muscles that were perfectly proportioned to his long smooth stomach. His arms were indeed as strong as they felt as she watched them flex as he rescued his shirt from the floor.

"Alright, your turn," he said cheerfully as he threw his shirt on the bed casually. He stopped smirking when he saw the look on her face, then began laughing as she tried desperately to hide herself in the duvet. "What are you doing? Your water is going to get cold! Do you want me to come in there after you?" he grinned mischievously as he heard her gasp and freeze. "Come now, little one, bath time!" he joked as he threw back the covers.

"Hey!" Caliel shrieked as he pulled her over to him. "I can't have a bath – I'm fully clothed!"

He stopped and smiled cruelly.

"Not for long."

Caliel paled.

"What!? Hey-!"

Legolas pulled her face over his shoulder as he began to undo the ties to her nightgown. He couldn't recall the last time he had had such fun, granted it was at the expense of the poor child's sanity, but he couldn't help himself as he ignored her cries of injustice and continued down her back until they were all undone. He lessened his hold on her head and felt her pull away from him to shoot him a death glare. He laughed loudly – she was furious with him! He vainly attempted to rein in his amusement as he stood and carried her toward the bath

Caliel was still fuming at being toyed with but her anger was rapidly diminishing as she enjoyed lying against his bare chest. She closed her eyes and sighed contently.

Legolas glanced down at her and smiled adoringly.

'How very different Humans are from Elves,' he mused as he gently kicked the door closed behind him.

* * *

><p><strong>xxXXxx<strong>

**So a bit of a silly ending to an otherwise serious chapter – I thought it might balance it out. ;)**

**Can you tell I watch a lot of Discovery Channel? That parasite Raenion's infected with is actually based on several real life parasites that dwell in tropical and sub tropical regions. Sometimes all it takes is walking barefoot on the grass or eatting improperly washed lettuce and boom! You've picked up a little internal friend. How's that for food for thought? ;)**


	6. Of Confusion and Anger

**I do not own anything Tolkien related and I am only borrowing his amazing characters.**

**Wildlifer: Thanks, I'm glad you're enjoying it. :) And yes, the title will definitely come into play later. This story right now is like a branch that is slowly leading to the heart of the tree in terms of plot line. Although there are many different branches. ;)**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 6:<strong>

**Of Confusion and Anger**

Inside the room Caliel saw a large cast iron tub filled nearly to the brim with steaming hot water. The air was humid with a strong aroma of lavender and eucalyptus and as there were no windows inside, several tall candles had been lit. All of these things ended up creating a spectacularly romantic scene which had Caliel's mind swimming with possibilities. She had to fight to keep her thoughts from running away with her.

"I hope it is not too dark," Legolas said apologetically. "I thought you would appreciate the ambiance as it is more private. I know it may not be ideal for you, but as you are not in any condition to bathe alone I elected to assist you."

Caliel tensed up as her nerves overtook her once more.

"Do not fear, I will not look," he said gently. "I will stand you in the tub and you can hold onto me with your uninjured arm. I will then remove the gown and on your cue, help lower you down into the water. I have added additional soup to the water so the bubbles should cover you completely if you are concerned. When you are finished, call for me and I will close my eyes and hold my hand out for you and place a towel around your shoulders. Once you have wrapped it around yourself I will help you back to bed where I will leave you with a fresh night gown to put on yourself. You only have to place it over your arms and then I can assist you in tying up the back. Does this sound acceptable?"

He had spoken so tenderly to her that she felt reassured and confident with his plan. He had really taken the time to think it all out carefully and with her comfort in mind. He didn't seem anything like the elf who, minutes ago, was more than happy to aggravate her for his own amusement.

Caliel felt him lower her into the turn and she involuntarily jerked her good leg up as the hot water hit her foot.

"Is it too warm?" he asked, voice full of concern.

"No, no it's fine. I just have to adjust to it," she lied. It was a little hot but he had been so kind to her already that she didn't have the heart to admit it.

"I am sorry, Nestor advised me to have it as warm as you could tolerate in order to soothe the muscles."

He carefully withdrew his arm from her legs, letting them once again seep into the hot water.

"That's fine," she muttered as she concentrated on holding onto him with only the one arm.

Legolas closed his eyes as he felt her arm around his shoulder.

"Are you ready?" he asked cautiously.

She tightened her grip on his neck and he felt her nod. He felt for the collar of her gown and gradually began to pull it from her body. She shivered despite the warmth of the room as the last of the dress left her, leaving her completely exposed and she was more aware now than ever of the heat that emanated from Legolas' own bare skin. Various thoughts crossed her mind as she stood motionless against him.

"Caliel?" Legolas finally spoke when she made no attempt to release him.

"Sorry! Hang on…" she quickly shook away her uncontrolled thoughts and gingerly began to lower herself into the tub, sighing in pleasure as the warm water brought much needed relief to her aching muscles. "Mmm, this is incredible…" she purred. "Thank-you."

"I-it was nothing…" Legolas stammered as he forced himself to look toward the door.

The unusual sound of him stumbling over his words caught Caliel by surprise as she turned her head to check if he was alright.

"Legolas?"

"Yes?" he replied, still being careful to avert his gaze.

"You can look now. You weren't kidding about the bubbles," she chuckled.

Legolas slowly turned his head toward her and was struck by how different she suddenly looked. Her hastily made ponytail was gone as her hair fell loosely down her shoulders, the ends made wet by the soapy water. Her face had flushed due to the intense heat causing her lips to appear redder than before. His eyes lingered on them longer than he had meant to and he found himself shaking his head at himself.

"What am I thinking," he harshly whispered to himself.

Caliel was too absorbed in her cozy warm cocoon to hear what he had said.

"Did you say something?" she inquired.

"No," he answered quickly, silently thanking the Valar she had not heard.

His attention was suddenly drawn back to the door as someone on the other side began to knock softly. He glanced at Caliel and she quickly sunk lower in the tub before he went over and opening the door a crack.

From within the safe confine of the tub, Caliel heard a faintly familiar male voice speaking another language, while Legolas' own voice sounded unusually deep as he spoke in the same language as the male visitor. It wasn't a long conversation and before Caliel could ponder on it at any length, it was over. Legolas opened the door wider and let the other elf in – much to Caliel's horror. It was only when she recognized the owner of the voice that she relaxed a little (although she was still acutely aware of the current level of bubbles around her). Nestor smiled kindly at her but she observed that he seemed tired and drained of all stamina. There was nothing physically amiss with him to give it away, instead it was a subtle change in aura from that last time he had visited her.

"I see my Prince is tending to you well," he said with a bemused expression as he shot Legolas a knowing look.

Legolas smiled serenely and shook his head.

"I am simply following your instructions, High Healer Nestor."

"And exceeding them!" he declared dramatically before turning back to Caliel.

"So my child, has he been treating you well?"

She wasn't sure if he was being serious or not but felt obligated to defend Legolas' honour no matter.

"I doubt even a mother could be more attentive to her children as he is to me," she answered with pride.

Nestor was quite amused by that and laughed.

"Really now?! Him? That is shocking …you must have had quite the affect on him. I dearly hope it will improve his treatment toward me…" he pretended to glare at Legolas who merely stood shaking his head at his friend's usual theatrics.

"I have entrusted him with your final dose of medicine my child – please ensure he administers it to you before you go to sleep as it will likely cause a profound sense of drowsiness. Unlike the previous drought, this one contains magically grown herbs to speed healing, which unfortunately can only be given after the bone has begin to heal itself as it works in tandem with the body's natural healing process. To administer it immediately following the break does not yield the same result and these herbs are rather difficult to grow you see- if you are wondering why it is only now that you are receiving this." Nestor explained and winked at her.

"That's alright – does that mean my leg will be better soon?" she asked eagerly.

"When you awaken in fact," Nestor proudly informed her.

"That soon!?" she exclaimed with mixed emotions.

She had expected to be bedridden for several weeks originally and had gradually come to accept that; but now learning that she could be up and walking by tomorrow morning left her feeling a bit sad and maybe even a little scared. Did that mean she would have to leave soon?

Legolas observed her sudden change in demenour and sensed her concern.

"Your bone will be healed; however, your leg will still be tender and weak for several weeks. I would not allow you to leave until you feel completely _whole_."

He had chosen his words carefully, for he had known she would physically recover soon enough but he still didn't want to abandon her when she had no memories to guide her further. And if he were being completely truthful he would admit that he simply was not ready to _let_ her go just yet.

Nestor raised a brown at his Prince's declaration but said nothing. He knew what Legolas meant and was fairly certain his father would have a few things to say about that. He did not envy Legolas.

Caliel beamed gratefully at Legolas and felt relief wash over her. Legolas returned the smile and nodded to acknowledge her appreciation as the two continued to share a lingering familial gaze - poor Nestor having been seemingly forgotten. Nestor glanced from Legolas to Caliel and back at Legolas again and shook his head in disbelief, chuckling to himself. So he was right after all. There was definitely _something_ between them.

"Alright children," he announced in a raspy voice. "You two play nicely. And Legolas…" Nestor's face became serious. "You will stop by later tonight to see him?"

Legolas' face darkened and he nodded soberly.

"Of course," he replied his grave tone matching Nestor's.

"Good," Nestor said reaching for the door. He bid farewell to both Caliel and Legolas before slipping out silently.

Legolas was lost in his thoughts as he did not immediately meet Caliel's gaze. He looked troubled and even though Caliel knew it probably was none of her business she wanted to help him- he had done so much for her and, doubtless, would do much more. This was her chance.

"Is everything alright?" she asked, trying to sound nonchalant since she didn't want him to think she was deliberately prying into his personal affairs. Even if she was.

Her words seemed distant and took awhile to reach him as he eventually found his way back to reality. He caught her concerned eyes and flashed her the briefest of smiles before bringing his hand up and massaging his neck tellingly.

"No," he admitted dryly. He continued to rub his neck as he spoke. "A new member of my unit was injured last night. He…may not survive."

"That's terrible…" she murmured in awe. "How did it happen?"

Legolas drew a meditative breath in and out and the look of deep pain in his eyes caused Caliel's heart to ache for him.

"He was infected by a parasite from a giant spider. There is no easy way to treat it: either he fights himself or we can medically intervene but the results could be disastrous – and there is no guarantee either way."

"I see…" Caliel wanted to comfort him. She wanted to run over and embrace him and tell him everything would be alright but that would be a hollow promise. This sounded serious and she morbidly wondered how long the elf had.

"What's his name?" she asked suddenly, realizing she didn't know it.

"Raenion," Legolas answered remorsefully. He stopped cradling his neck and came over to Caliel's tub and sat down cross-legged on the floor. He let his elbows rest on his knees as he sunk his head down to rest in his palms. He sighed and ran his hands over his face and down his hair before once again propping his chin on his hand.

"So you're going to visit him later?" she already knew the answer of course, but she wasn't quite sure what to say.

"Yes. After this I will go to him but I will return to you to give you your medicine."

"That's fine. Don't worry about me though – I'm fine. Just focus on your friend."

He was already so burdened as it was she didn't want to add to his load.

"It is no trouble," he shrugged. "I should not be long. Nestor just came by to inform me that the family has come to a decision regarding his treatment."

"What have they chosen?"

"They have decided to allow Nestor to treat him directly. Nestor just wanted to let me know so I could visit him before he began in case…it does not work."

"Take all the time you need," she reaffirmed.

He nodded to her but his mind was already elsewhere as an awkward silence descended upon them. At least to Caliel it was awkward. She felt like she should say something – anything. But one look at his face and all words evaporated. Maybe there was nothing she could say? Maybe this was one of those times when it's just better to be with someone in case _they want_ to talk- so they know they're not alone.

"Legolas?" she called tentatively.

"Yes?" he said, looking up at her finally.

"I'll be here when you get back. So…I'm here for you, if you want to talk about it, I mean. So…you're not alone."

Her words floundered as she struggled to string them together properly but they were genuine. She cared about him and wanted him to know it so hopefully he could rely on her a little too…but it wasn't because she felt indebted to him, but rather, the idea of him entrusting his inner most thoughts and feelings with her made her feel special…and happy.

Legolas was touched by her concern and grinned widely, momentarily chasing away the sorrow in his eyes as they lit up. She felt her heart leap with joy and the tense atmosphere vanished. Though a tad bit muddled, her words _had_ reached him and touched him enough to ease his mind, even just for that instant.

"Thank-you," he said earnestly.

There really was no other that he could talk to about this, save Nestor, and he didn't want to take time away from him as he knew he could not spare it. His father wasn't interested in discussing his thoughts as he was only concerned with assigning blame. He had never been overly warm but he had been a patient ear to speak to once. Now he seemed so short on patience and had all the warmth of Khazad-dûm.

Acting purely on impulse, Legolas reached up and touched his hand to her cheek in a gesture that both surprised and delighted her. He sat peering into her eyes as his hand very slowly drew down her cheek to her jawbone before trailing over her chin. His thumb brushed her lower lip as he held his hand there, all the while staring into her eyes with an unreadable expression.

Caliel couldn't move- couldn't think. The feel of his touch froze her in place. She could only stare blankly back at him and watched as his lips parted ever so slightly. His head titled to the side unconsciously and Caliel realized with a start that he might actually kiss her! She held her breath and waited, praying Nestor would not randomly return and spoil the moment.

Legolas too apparently had forgotten how to breathe, as he suddenly drew a sharp intake of air and looked about himself as if he could not recall where he was.

"Oh!" Legolas exclaimed as a thought struck him. "Are you still hungry? I can retrieve something for you now if you wish- that way you can bathe in privacy."

Caliel looked bewildered as food had been the furthest thing from her mind a second ago.

"What?" she blinked.

"Are you hungry? I did not think there was sufficient food on the tray when I saw it pass by me on the way here- I should have called for more," he rambled on and scampered to his feet. "I will get you some," he announced abruptly and left her in far more of a rush than necessary.

She stared at the door in stunned silence. She still had not moved since he had touched her. She brought her hand up and placed it where his had been, tracing her thumb along her lip in likeness.

What was that about and why had he run off so suddenly?

She leaned back, still touching her lip, as her other hand groped for the washcloth that rested atop the tub at her side.

**xxXXxx**

Legolas all but ran down the hallway in an effort to escape the bizarre feelings that had overcome him. The further away from that girl he got the more normal he felt and so he gradually slowed his pace. If anyone would have passed by they would undoubtedly have taken a second look at their Prince, who wore such a complete expression of confusion.

What in Arda was he thinking? Was he really going to kiss her? The impulse was so strong he had nearly given in and that unnerved him greatly. Elves were supposed to be masters of their minds and bodies from the time they were small and yet here he was at the mercy of his- and all over some mortal woman! He couldn't understand it. He hadn't even found her particularly attractive when he first met her…but then again she was completely disheveled. Seeing her like that now had apparently altered his opinion. He had only seen her as a mortal woman before, but now her mortality has less meaning as he came to think of her as simply a woman.

"A mortal yet still," he muttered bitterly.

He arrived at the kitchen door and sighed heavily. What would his father have to say about that, he wondered sarcastically before knocking on the door.

"Supper is over! Come back tomorrow!" came the curt reply.

Legolas was surprised at the unexpectedly abrupt response directed at him. He let out a half-hearted laugh, shook his head, and knocked again. Something metallic hit the floor hard and was followed by the sound of footsteps fast approaching.

"What are you- deaf!?" the agitated voice cursed at him through the door as it was thrown violently open.

On the other side of the door was the most unlikely owner of that hostile voice. Legolas looked the elleth up and down in amusement. She wasn't much shorter than him with long black hair pulled back into an elaborate braid. Her eyes were deep blue and he watched with humour as they quickly changed from fiery rage to awe stuck terror.

"My Lord!" she cried in a shrill voice. "Forgive me! I thought it was this foolish maid that keeps getting lost. I have been charged with her keeping but I find I simply cannot tend to her all the time whilst still seeing to my own duties!" she bowed low quickly then arose. "There is only so much I can do!"

Legolas nodded and held his hands up to calm her- at this rate Caliel would be asleep in the tub before he even got a word in with this overwhelmed elleth. She drew another breath and was about to continue her tirade until she noticed Legolas stance and closed her mouth on the spot.

"How long has she been here?" he asked with a practiced authority.

"Just these past 3 days. She is the youngest daughter of another maid who thought she needed more real world experience and that bringing her with her to work would do the trick."

"Then why is her mother not instructing her herself?"

"They had a falling out," she replied dumbly. "Since then her mother has assigned her to me…but it has been 3 whole days and she still cannot find her way around a kitchen! I fear there is no hope…" she lamented dramatically.

Legolas thought the whole story absurd as he narrowed his eyes.

"This is not a daycare for minding elflings. If she cannot perform her tasks as assigned then she cannot remain here. It is beyond comprehension as to why, if she cannot handle dealing with her own child, that she then lay that responsibility at another's feet."

"No!" she seemed worried suddenly and reached out to Legolas. "I mean…she is not all that bad…irritating and a bit dim witted yes, but she has a good heart and…and she means well."

Legolas studied her carefully.

"What you say may be true and yet if she is interfering with your work she will have to go."

The dark haired elleth looked upset.

"But, maybe, I am not being patient with her enough my Lord…maybe I am the one to blame. Please," she implored, "my head is not where it should be right now…and I fear I may be wrongly taking it out on her."

Legolas looked at her curiously, wondering why, if this other elleth caused her such trouble, was she suddenly defending her. He sighed and decided it was not his concern and that he had better get back to Caliel soon anyway.

"Very well," he told her, "I will give her another week to learn the ropes but if there is no progress gained, and I will be requiring written reports from various staff, then I am afraid I will have no choice but to send her back home. Is that understood?"

"Yes, my Lord," she bowed her head and was considerably relieved. "I promise you she will improve."

"We shall see…Now, I require a plate of assorted food to bring to our guest. What have you got on hand?"

"Guest?" she wrinkled her forehead at the word and her lips tightened. "You mean, the mortal?"

"Yes?" Legolas wasn't sure what difference it made.

"She is sending _you_ to bring _her_ food..?"

Her tone was split evenly between disbelief and repulsion and Legolas took an immediate dislike of it and went on the offense.

"She did not _send_ me anywhere," he clarified firmly. "I _offered_ to bring her more. Actually, now that I am on the subject- I have to say that there was scarce little on the original tray to begin with. In the future, any guest we have shall receive more than enough so that they shall want for naught. It reflects poorly on us if we go about starving our guests."

"Even if the guests are _mortal_?" she balked incredulously.

Legolas felt his temper rising at her insolence.

"Even if they are _Dwarves_."

She gasped and looked away, pouting.

Legolas began to wonder if this was the elleth that had cause Caliel so much unnecessary grief. She certainly appeared quick to anger and openly showed her disapproval toward mortals…and dwarves (though he admittedly empathized with her regarding the latter). He fixed his cold blue eyes on her before speaking.

"Were you the elleth that brought Caliel her food?" he demanded without emotion.

"'Caliel'? Why does a mortal have an Elven name? It is offensive…yes, I brought it to her," then she added under her breath," To serve a mortal…how demeaning…"

Legolas brows shot up in outward surprise at her flippant attitude. His patience had run out and now he was angry. How dare she speak about Caliel as if she were an insect to be stepped on, when she knew nothing of her? Acting on that same impulse that had gripped him before, Legolas strode toward her and grabbed her by the arm to force her to look at him. She gasped as he held her arm in a tight grip and glowered down at her with eyes like ice. Within his grasp he could feel her begin to tremble.

"You will serve whomever I order you to, _elleth_," he seethed.

She whimpered and looked away as tears welled up in her eyes. He held her a moment longer before loosening his grip. The second he did, she pulled away from him and ran across the room. Her face was red and her eyes were glistening with unshed tears as Legolas watched her with a demure expression before going about the room gathering up left over pieces of food. The frightened elleth didn't move from her spot and could only watch.

After he had filled the tray to his satisfaction he finally returned his attention to her.

"What is your name?" he asked, keeping his voice neutral. He was still angry, but attempted to keep it under control.

"Bogwen…" she answered timidly.

"I see."

He left her to wonder as he made his way back with haste to Caliel.

**xxXXxx**

Meanwhile Bogwen had managed to regain her sense of balance as she walked shakily over to the centre counter. She had never seen the Prince so furious before for, what she believed, to be a silly reason.

"Unless…"

Her eyes widened in shock. Did his majesty perhaps care about the mortal…romantically? At first she was quick to dismiss the thought as too far fetched but the longer she thought on it the more it put his erratic behaviour into perspective. Why else would he have lashed out at her like that?

She cradled her sore arm in her hand – it would no doubt leave a bruise.

Looking down at her aching forearm sparked her own fury inside and she plotted to get him back for mistreating her as he had- prince or no.

But how?

A maniacal smile swept across her face as she thought of exactly what to do and she glared at the door where he had gone and smirked.

"You will regret that, Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood. I will make sure of it," she spat venomously.

**xxXXxx**

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><p><strong>Hmm so Legolas has a bit of a temper I think is fair to say? Could it be something inherited from his father or is something else going on with him? I wonder…<strong>

**Also, I can't remember if this was in the books or not (as it's been about 12 years since I've read them) but in the Hobbit app game Legolas remarks about how Elves do not like referring to ****Khazad-dûm as "Moria" because Moria is an Elven name (Sindarin = Black Chasm) and since the place is a Dwarven hollow to use an Elven name doesn't seem right. I think this makes sense logically so that's why I had Legolas call it Khazad-dûm and not Moria. **


	7. Of Pillow Projectiles & Meticulous Meds

**I do not own anything Tolkien related and I am only borrowing his amazing characters.**

**Idunn: Hi, thanks so much for the review! Bogwen may be impulsive but she's a great tactician (or so she thinks) ;) **

**Wildlifer****: When I was trying to pick out a name for her I deliberately chose one with a crappy meaning and one that sounded bad in English too, hehe. Every time I write her name I do this hybrid English/Elvish translation in my head so I think of her as the Bog Maiden. And fear not, Thranduil is probably the character I most enjoy writing about oddly enough. You're entirely right too- I can see the thought process being maybe he's too close to the darkness to justify risking bestowing a ring upon, but as they seem more defensive than overtly offensive in nature it seems like he was deliberately shunned. **

**L'alchimiste de Castille****: I'm glad you like my O.C. – I was worried she might come across as too passive. I've always wondered if people who suffered tragedy in their life would be better having no recollection of it – if that would heal them. Or has whatever event already made its impression on them beyond what the mind can recall? Caliel's my experiment into that question. **

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><p><strong>Chapter 7:<strong>

**Of Pillow Projectiles and Meticulous Medicine **

Legolas slowly maneuvered his way through the door, tray in one hand and glass of water in the other. He congratulated himself on his small victory of getting the water successfully to the side table with only (minor) spillage along the way as he set the glass down and placed the tray near it. This time there would be no gauntlet to the desk for Caliel. He went over to the bathing chamber door and lightly tapped his knuckles against it.

Inside Caliel had, with some difficulty, managed to scrub herself clean and now awaited her Elven nursemaid. She heard the soft tapping on the door and smiled eagerly.

"You can come in! I'm all finished."

Legolas carefully poked his head in to ensure it was indeed safe before going up to her with the towel in hand, setting it aside.

"Alright Mr. Elf," she said in jest. "What's your plan?"

"You must rinse yourself off first and then I will help you to stand, have you lean on me, and I will wrap the towel around you before carrying you to bed."

"Sounds good-" she quickly tried to suppress a yawn but it was too late.

Legolas grinned kindly.

"I am sorry I was late. I ran into an…_unexpected_ problem."

"Oh?" she didn't bother to appear disinterested this time and now felt like she could speak freely with him.

Legolas waved a hand and looked unimpressed.

"Here, rinse yourself off and I will turn around and tell you. Just push the lever at the front of the tub down and it will drain the used water away. Then, remove the stopper from the spigot above you and it will allow the fresh water to flow freely."

"That's amazing…" she marveled. "Can you tell me how it works? I mean, after you tell me about the problem you ran into?"

Legolas laughed softly at her quaint fascination with the plumbing. To him having grown up with it, it seemed nothing of consequence but watching her interest in it made him wonder if he maybe hadn't fully appreciated it before.

"Of course," he agreed, which delighted her.

He watched as she pushed the lever, causing the blockage below to withdraw, allowing the water to drain away. She turned and looked expectantly up at him however he had become distracted by the rapidly declining water level and it took a moment for him to catch on to what she wanted.

"Ah!" he gasped as he finally realized his error and turned around to relate to her his odd encounter.

Caliel would have to wait for all the water to drain so he would have a few minutes before the sound of rushing water would drown him out.

"You remember that unfortunate meeting you had with the elleth?" he had to raise his voice slightly to compensate for the sound of the water running down the drain.

"How could I forget?" she replied dully.

"As it is, her name is Bogwen. She is rather emotionally turbulent compared to any elleth I have ever met. At first she cursed at me through the door and later informed me she thought I was some maid that has been bothering her."

"_She_ yelled at _you_?!" Caliel couldn't believe her ears.

"Yes. Though, she did not know it was me. She was profoundly apologetic upon discovery though," he chortled.

"I bet…"

"Anyway, when I said I would take care of the issue she suddenly changed from angry to upset and started begging me to reconsider."

"That's strange, no?"

"Very. I can only surmise that she spoke before realizing to whom she was speaking. I do not share in idle gossip and so if there is a problem I take action."

"So what happened?"

"I told her I would reconsider, pending status updates – it is really all I could do."

"That sounds fair enough."

"Yet, that is not the interesting part."

Caliel shivered as the water twisted and turned down the drain. There was only about 2 inches left which caused her newly exposed skin to prickle from the comparatively cooler air about her. Her hand moved toward the spigot but hesitated. She really wanted to hear the rest of the story first, despite her discomfort.

"Did she do something?" Caliel prompted, pulling her good leg close to herself and wrapping her arms around it for warmth.

"It was actually something she _said_. When I gathered up some left over food for you she thought that you had been ordering me around and began to berate you-"

"-but I didn't even ask-!" she protested but he waved his hand to dismiss the thought.

"I know, I told her thusly. She then took on quite the attitude with me and I had to reprimand her. So, I thought you should know that you will not have to worry about her bothering you again for she is now clear on the consequences."

'Clear on the consequences' Caliel mused. She wondered what that meant exactly as it sounded rather ominous. Sensing his tale has reached its finality, and greatly desiring the comfort of hot water, Caliel placed her hand on the wooden board jamming the spigot and yanked it upward. It wouldn't give at first so she tried jiggling it back and forth roughly.

Legolas heard her grunt as she struggled with the block.

"Do you need assistance?" he asked in a normal voice now, as the last of the water had finally drained.

Caliel bit her lower lip and gave it one last good tug.

"No, I think I – ahh!" she cried out as the stop finally gave way suddenly, causing her to real back from the force.

Legolas listened as her head banged loudly against the tub and winced. He chanced a peek as he cautiously turned his head and looked back at her. His long hair hung over his shoulders and acted as a curtain concealing his face enough to steal a quick glance. After all, he had been entrusted by Nestor to care for her and what if she had a concussion?

He pursed his lips together tightly to suppress a snicker when he saw her uninjured arm fly up and grab the side of the tub to hoist herself up. Her wet hair covered most of her face as she furiously tried to brush it away. Through the gaps in her hair he could see enough of her face to witness that it had turned an adorable shade of red as she cursed under her breath. His cheeks dimpled as he lost the fight, his smile now sweeping across his entire face.

What clumsy creatures these mortals are.

When Legolas saw her turn toward him he quickly looked the other way and pretended not to have noticed.

Caliel studied him and breathed a sigh of relief. The sound of running water must have drowned out the noise from her head colliding with the tub. She mentally scolded herself and stuck her head under the tap, letting the hot water soothe her aching head…or to drown herself for her stupidity- both seemed like viable options.

"Are you nearly finished?"

Despite her humourous display, Legolas found himself shifting about, unable to remain still for any longer. He needed to see Raenion as soon as possible- he didn't want to delay Nestor any longer than needed.

Caliel withdrew her head from the water and hurriedly splashed water over herself to remove the excess soap.

"Yes, I'm done," she called out as she finished splashing water over her legs.

Legolas was greatly relieved at being able to move again and fetched the towel for her from where he had set it. As he carried it back to her he made sure to keep a steady gaze on the ground and stopped as the feet of the tub came into view. Hmm, apparently the claw feet had nails…he had never noticed that before.

"Alright," he instructed as he reached out with his hand. "I will help you to stand, then once you are up I will wrap the towel around you and you can adjust it how you want. Let me know when you are ready and I will carry you back to bed."

"Okay…" Caliel hadn't really heard anything past him helping her up. She carefully placed the stopper back in the spigot and gave it a good whack with her fist to make sure it was in (and to give it a little pay back for earlier). She then turned to Legolas and shivered again, but she knew the cold had little to do with it this time.

She reached out her hand in turn and gently laid it within his. When he responded by gripping it tighter she felt excitement pass through her as he effortlessly pulled her upright. She was amazed by his strength and took this rare opportunity to stare at him shamelessly, for he had promised earlier to keep his eyes shut. Unfortunately his tunic remained on this time, (she assumed he must have grabbed it off the bed on his mad dash out earlier) and so she was denied from that wondrous sight. She instead focused on his face as he flicked the towel out causing it to unravel to the floor. Her eyes traced his strong jawbone up to his pointed ears finding it funny how surreal they had seemed before and how they had evoked such fear and wonder within her. Now that she was granted a closer look she found them to be quite elegantly curved, and almost leaf-like in their appearance, as they drew into a delicate tip at the top.

She was magnetized and unable to take her eyes off them. They thrilled her and she found them fascinating as she longed to touch them for herself- to trace her fingers from the point along the curvaceous side to the tender lobe.

The sensation of the towel enveloping her acted as a warm shield against the cool air and she felt emboldened by its soft, warm texture. Before she could second guess herself, she reached out and brushed her fingers along the edge of his ear. He immediately froze and she heard him inhale sharply.

A chill rain down his spine as she let her fingers gently trace their way down the rim and lobe before withdrawing them entirely.

She hugged the towel tighter to herself as she felt regret the moment her hand left him. He had not moved a muscle and stood wide-eyed staring blankly into nothingness. His breathing was louder and steady as if he were trying to compose himself. Panic pierced her heart as she realized in horror that she must have hurt him somehow.

"I-I'm so sorry!" she gasped. "I just wanted to-I mean, I couldn't help myself – you're not hurt are you!?"

Still breathing heavily, Legolas very slowly brought his eyes to meet her fearful ones. His own eyes were equally as large and his small pupils made his eyes appear almost entirely blue. He stared at her in wordless astonishment as his breathing at last normalized.

"You did not harm me…"

His voice sounded strange to her – hollow and detached.

He swallowed and relaxed his shoulders as his features softened in response to her apparent alarm before neatly tying the top of her towel together.

"I am unharmed," he repeated, more kindly this time. "You just took me by surprise. Elven ears are…sensitive – much more than mortals. I vaguely recall it having to do with the increased presence of nerve ending due to our skilled hearing abilities…"

Caliel nodded in understanding but felt like smacking herself on the forehead. _Why_ had she thought that manhandling his ears had been a _good_ idea? She was utterly mortified and wanted to hide in the towel.

"Alright, let us get you into bed."

He skillfully looped his arms around her, one at her back and the other under her knees before carrying her to the door. This time, however, Caliel couldn't enjoy it as she was too busy mentally berating herself.

He gently placed her onto of the bed and retrieved a loose fitting nightgown from the adjacent wardrobe. It was simply constructed and consisted of thin ivory coloured fabric with elegant lace trim at the neck and hem. The sleeves were exaggerated and draped down the sides.

"Here," he said handing the dress to her. "You should be able to put on. It is rather large for you but that should make it easier to pull over your head. Can you move your left arm enough?"

Caliel carefully rotated her shoulder as much as she dared whilst biting the inside of her cheek to keep from wincing as she gingerly raised it up to demonstrate.

Legolas was eager to depart as his thoughts had returned to Raenion and her thinly veiled attempt to conceal her strain went unnoticed.

"Good," he declared feeling confident she was able to clothe herself. "Now, I should not be gone long and after I will give you your medicine. Would you like a book to read in the meantime?"

"Sure, but why can't I take the medicine by myself? I can move my arm well enough now."

She didn't want to have him rushing about on her account.

Legolas looked like he was close to laughter.

"Uh…no. Nestor has a penchant for understatement. When he says the medicine will make you drowsy what he really means is that it will completely render you unconscious- instantly. I fear with your track record you may wind up sprawled out gracelessly across the floor," he said, eyes gleaming at the thought.

"Hey!"

Her mouth dropped as she began to eye one particular pillow that she thought would make a lovely projectile.

Legolas followed her line of sight and quickly retreated to a safe distance near the door.

"Now, now," he chastised. "You must not aggravate your injury."

She glared at him.

"Besides," he began teasingly. "It would be a wasted effort. You would miss," he spoke confidently as if he knew that to be absolute fact.

That did it.

Caliel leaned forward, yanked the pillow from behind her and whipped it with all her might….

…only to have it land barely halfway across the room.

She stared angrily at the useless weapon below her, looking up just in time to see a highly amused elf slip out through the door.

She frowned when she distinctly heard the sound of laughter fading in the distance.

**xxXXxx**

The further Legolas got from Caliel's room the more his good humour escaped him. Each step closer to Raenion brought renewed anxiety as his stride wavered and became uneven. One moment he greatly wished to see him but within minutes his pace had lessened as his mind clamoured on. He prayed that Raenion's family would not be present upon his arrival. He did not want to face them as he worried they would also blame him. He knew that it was pointless to hope without cause as it would be foolish to believe they would be anywhere _but_ at the side of their wounded son. He stopped in his tracks entirely and gave his head a shake.

"Enough thinking. Just go. Whatever happens will be nothing compared to what Raenion is to face soon."

Pulling his fingers to his palms, Legolas continued on with renewed determination.

**xxXXxx**

When Legolas entered the Healing Halls it was much the same as before, only now the light had withered as the above sun was nearly set. An apprentice, unknown to Legolas, began to go around with a lighted candle, dutifully instilling life into each candelabra he came upon.

Legolas looked up to the roof of the cave, made visible from the building by several large panes of glass placed across the ceiling. The red sun streaked across the stone walls and where the rock had given way looked like a gaping open wound, bloody and vicious.

"Ah, there you are my Prince."

"Nestor," Legolas greeted him seriously. "Have you begun?" he asked anxiously.

"No, I was just about to but I wanted to wait for you so I delayed it."

"Sorry to have kept you waiting."

"It is fine. I understand. A few minutes will not make a difference."

"Where is he?"

"Just in that room there," Nestor extended his arm out toward a nearby room. The door was closed.

"They –his family- are in there…" Nestor said in a low voice. "They also wanted to see him once more. They are preparing themselves in case I am unsuccessful…I would like to offer them more hope but I am afraid I cannot…" Nestor said closing his eyes regretfully.

"Do…do they blame me?" Legolas' voice was barely above a whisper.

He immediately felt foolish asking that as Raenion was about to face the battle of his young life and here he was worried about himself.

Nestor kept his eyes closed and thought on it.

"I believe 'tis best if you ask them yourself, my Lord. I can only speculate." Nestor looked back up at Legolas and drew closer. "I will return in 5 minutes to commence treatment. Unburden yourself to him now."

Nestor grasped Legolas' shoulder briefly before walking away and Legolas turned to the foreboding door, forcing himself to approach it. What lay on the other side of that door terrified him more than any foe he had faced thus far. He raised his hand and reluctantly rapped on the door.

"Enter," came the muffled voice of an all too weary ellon.

Legolas drew back the door and inside he could see only two other elves: one male, one female – his parents, Legolas presumed.

Raenion's mother sat at her son's side, grasping his hand and stroking it tenderly with her thumb. On her face she wore a smile as she looked lovingly upon him. The smile was strained, however, as faint creases on the outer of her eyes betrayed the calm visage she tried so desperately to convey – if only to herself.

Across from her, also at Raenion's side, though nearer to the wall, sat Raenion's father – who arose to greet Legolas. Through his smile Legolas could see the same pensive expression his wife wore and Legolas felt a lump form in his throat as he gripped his father's hand. The raw pain projecting from the ellon's eyes cut at Legolas' heart like an arrowhead.

"My Prince, I did not expect you," his voice was hoarse and he spoke with evident difficulty. "I am Lassendaer, and this is my wife, Naruves."

Legolas kindly greeted them each in turn.

"How thoughtful of you to visit our son," Lassendaer remarked genuinely.

"Your son may very well have saved my life…" Legolas trailed off as his eyes came to rest upon the motionless body of Raenion.

He was indeed young –barely looking as though he were fully grown. He very much resembled his mother and had her fair features, down to her willowy red hair. But where her face was rosy and full of life, his was pale and gaunt as his cheeks had begun to sink inward.

Naruves maternally brushed his hair with her fingers and fought to keep her sad smile in place.

"H-how did my son do that?" she stuttered as grief threaded to steal away her voice.

Legolas' eyes were downcast as inextricable shame descended upon him as he realized he had no idea who Raenion really was. Until now they had never before met and yet, were it not for this unknown elf, Legolas could be lying there in his stead. He would be the one potentially at death's door.

"I _should_ have been…" Legolas muttered bitterly to himself.

"My Lord?" Naruves looked quizzically up at Legolas as she continued to stroke Raenion's hair.

"Lady Naruves," Legolas began sorrowfully. "It is my fault your son is as he is now."

Her brows furrowed in confusion as she waited for him to continue.

"Raenion was sent in my stead that night. I was supposed to have gone on patrol but I was…unable to. If I had have gone then he would not have been attacked and he would have no need to go through all this pain. It is because of me. I am sorry…" Legolas said emphatically as he closed his eyes and bowed deeply to the baffled elleth before him.

When Legolas stood he was not at all prepared for what came next.

Before he could even look at her, Naruves had come over and embraced him tightly. Legolas stiffened in surprise but soon heard Naruves' soft voice whispering to him gently.

"My dear Prince, it was in no way your fault! You could not have predicted what has happened nor what _would_ have happened had you gone in place of my son."

She withdrew from him and her hands came to rest on his shoulders, eyes staring deeply into his, imploring them to believe her.

"My Prince…do you have any idea how happy this assignment made him?"

"That…is right," Lassendaer spoke suddenly as he looked reflectively at his sleeping son. "He had trained for that day since he as but a small elflings…always running about getting underfoot –claiming he was battling orcs or trolls or some sort of fell creature," he chuckled half-heartedly to himself at the memory. "I remember one instance; after the new railings had gone in that lead up to our house my wife had only taken her eyes off him for a second-"

"-to check on dinner," Naruves defended.

"-and the little scamp had climbed up the rails nearly halfway-"

"-over halfway – nearly to the top," she corrected, a hint of pride seeping into her voice.

"That is right…my dear, how frightened you had been," Lassendaer grinned at the recollection.

"And how proud he was of himself – completely oblivious to the terror he had caused me!" Naruves scoffed angrily but in her eyes tears had begun to gather in their corners. She wiped them away in a quick gesture that was meant to echo her forced annoyance at her son's careless actions that day.

Lassendaer's smile became sad as he took her hand in his before giving it a reassuring squeeze. Her eyes lifted to regard her husband's and upon meeting his tender gaze the tears once again welled up and streamed down her face. No matter how much practice she had had all these years together she never could hide her true feeling from him.

Legolas felt a pang of loneliness touch him as he observed the pair. He wondered how long it had been since he had seen his own mother and father act so tenderly toward one another.

The sound of the door unlatching commanded the attention of all present as they turned anxiously toward to door, expecting to see Nestor returning with his medication.

It was not Nestor however, and Legolas' eyes narrowed in confusion as a familiar face entered the room.

Bogwen's eyes widened with alarm as soon as she saw Legolas, and a brief expression of fear was quickly replaced by anger.

"What are you doing here!?" she demanded as she slammed the door harshly behind her.

"Bogwen!" Naruves gasped in shock at her future daughter-in-law's utter disrespect for their prince.

"Child know your place," Lassendaer added with calm authority as he drew his hand away from his wife's to stand.

"No Father!" she argued as she raised an accusatory finger at Legolas. "I will not have _him_ here in this moment. Raenion needs calm and _his_ presence will only aggravate him!"

"My child, _you_ are the only one causing any aggravation here," Lassendaer's voice remained controlled however his eyes had narrowed at her in contention.

Naruves' gentle voice came next as she attempted to reclaim the peace.

"My dear, our Prince has come here to seek forgiveness. We have told him there is no need for it-"

"-no _need_!?" Bogwen interrupted incredulously. "How can you say that!?"

"Bogwen," Legolas called to her but she held her hand up to block him out.

"I will hear no words from a _coward_," her voice was deathly cold, equal only to the frigid glare she directed at Legolas. "As long as _he_ remains here, _I_ shall not."

Bogwen threw open the door and yanked it hard behind her, shutting it with a deafening slam.

Lassendaer wasted no time before apologizing to Legolas profusely.

"My Lord, please try not to take her words to heart. I beg of you, she is only a child and her heart aches for my son-"

Legolas raised his hand slowly and listened as Lassendaer's voice fell silent.

"There is no need to apologize," Legolas' own voice seemed far away and strange to his ears. "Perhaps her anger is not misplaced…"

He traced her footsteps as he made his way over to the door, his fingers reaching for the latch. As he did so the door became ajar while his fingers hovered in the air above it. His breath hitched in his throat as he feared Bogwen had suddenly returned, but he breathed a sigh of relief as before him stood not Bogwen, but Nestor.

Nestor noted Legolas' apprehension and questioned him in a concerned voice.

"Am I interrupting something? I am ready to begin and, though I would advise waiting no longer, I could come back if the situation warrants it."

"No," Legolas said shaking his head. "Please," he opened the door fully and beckoned the healer in.

Nestor walked into the room, bringing with him an eerily green liquid encased in a large glass vase of curious construction. It was thin and flask shaped, however the bottom was elongated and fed into a rope-like material that stretched nearly to the floor- a silver tip adorning the end. He regarded Naruves and Lassendaer and nodded, watching as they exchanged worried glances with one another.

"Shut the door Legolas," Nestor instructed.

Legolas was momentarily racked with indecision but Naruves intervened.

"Stay," she urged tenderly.

Legolas looked back at her, indecision yet strong within him, but one look into her melancholy maternal eyes was enough to still his mind. He closed the door beside him and walked over to join them.

**xxXXxx**

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><p><strong>Hmm, can't think of any notes to add.<strong>

**Yet.**

**Stay tuned for the next installment of…G.O.U.! **

**I'm always tempted to write "Gau" for some reason. Reminds me of that feral child from Final Fantasy 6. **


	8. Of What Dwells in the Darkness

**I do not own anything Tolkien related and I am only borrowing his amazing characters.**

**Thanks to all my readers and reviewers - I'm always happy to have new eyes and perspectives. :)**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 8:<strong>

**Of What Dwells in the Darkness**

Legolas watched tentatively as Nestor went about setting up his equipment. It was only as he began to rub disinfecting ointment on Raenion's arm and bring a sharp needle to his vein did Legolas have to strongly fight the urge to look away. He was no stranger to the sight of blood, after all, he had fought far more enemies than he could count – and yet for reasons he could not comprehend, the sight of Raenion like this disturbed him greatly. He crossed his arms, unconsciously wrapping his hands over his sides, as he watched Nestor re-adjust the needle one final time before standing.

"There," Nestor declared in a raspy voice. "It is done. Now all we can do is wait. We should know by the morrow whether or not this will work."

"That soon?" Naruves inquired nervously as she stole a worried glance at her motionless child.

Nestor looked with hesitation toward Lassendaer, who seemed to understand what Nestor had meant. He reached his hand out and rubbed his wife's shoulder lightly before resting it there.

"What..?" Naruves' eyes shook as she stared into her husband's weary face.

Lassendaer drew a ragged breath.

"He means…that if Raenion survives the night then we will know if we have made the correct decision…"

Legolas could hear Naruves gasp but she said nothing more.

"Legolas," Nestor addressed him softly.

Legolas raised his head and watched as Nestor tilted his head toward the door. He followed his friend's lead but couldn't help casting a final look at Raenion and his parents.

The medicine had begun to slowly drip down into the rope and make its way into Raenion as his devoted parents looked on seemingly unblinking. Lassendaer's hand had not left Naruves' shoulder and now her hand lay atop his as they sat there wordlessly.

Legolas bowed his head and carefully closed the door behind him.

**xxXXxx**

Meanwhile, Caliel had miraculously managed to wriggle herself into the nightgown Legolas had provided to her. All her effort was beginning to feel worth it as she relished the softness of the fabric- it felt so luxurious and comforting against her now clean skin. She ran her hand along the opposite sleeve as a great yawn made its way out and she found it difficult to open her eyes again.

'He should be back soon', she thought. 'A small nap shouldn't make any difference – especially if the medicine will make me drowsy anyway'.

She yawned again and snuggled her head into the pillow behind her before closing her heavy eyes and slipping happily into sleep.

**xxXXxx**

"What is this place?" Caliel wondered aloud, shivering in the cold as her warm breath sent mist emanating from her.

All around her was fallen masonry: arches and walls that had collapsed many years ago as dust clung thickly to it – she noted that even the cobwebs seemed to be coated in a thick blanket of dust.

The moon hung low in the sky as dark clouds loomed overhead drawing nearer by the second. A brisk wind kicked up and caused dead leaves to patter all around her. She watched them rise and fall with the wind in a trance until the subtlest of sounds commanded her attention. She looked anxiously about her, questioning if she had actually heard anything, but hoping she hadn't.

"Hello?" she called meekly into the desolate darkness, but there was no response. "What am I doing here?" she muttered to herself. "What is going on?"

She looked down at herself and found she was barefoot with only the thin nightgown Legolas had given her.

Snap.

Caliel's eyes widened in alarm and she took a step back as the sound echoed all around her.

'There's definitely someone there…or, _something_,' she thought grimly as she began to walk away from where the noise had originated.

'Don't run', she reminded herself. 'If I run, it will know I'm onto it'.

It went against every instinct within her but she forced her pace to only a fast walk. She stumbled repeatedly as her bare feet kept passing across various jagged rocks but somehow she managed to remain upright.

"Dammit," she cursed as the clouds overhead moved across the moon, casting everything into total darkness.

She felt a horrible sense of dread beginning to rise up within her and her chest tightened in response.

Light. She needed light. Now!

Whatever was stalking her would surely get her if she remained in darkness. Of course she had no way of knowing this for certain, but this feeling she had made her frantic. She dropped the pretense of walking and jumped into a light jog- the realization that her injuries had disappeared completely escaped her in her all consuming fright.

A gust of wind blew against her and her stomach dropped as it carried with it the sound of a low growl.

"It's just the wind in the trees- it's just the wind!" she repeated to herself firmly.

She broke into a full out run now and jumped over randomly scattered stones, trying desperately to avoid tripping. Whatever was out there was getting closer- she felt it. Her breathing became irregular as her legs felt heavier with each step. She was running as fast as her legs could carry her and yet it didn't feel like she was getting anywhere.

The deep growl came again wafting through the air around her.

It was close.

Very close.

'Light! _Please_ let me find light!' she screamed in her head, willing it to somehow appear with all her heart.

"Ahhh!" she shrieked as her foot slipped on a moist rock, sending her crashing down, her head colliding with the side of another stone.

She sat in a daze massaging her head but a menacing growl above her saw her blood turn to ice and she awoke with a start.

Her eyes flew open in the darkened room- her only thought to relight the candles as soon as possible. But when she tried to sit up in the bed she found she couldn't. In fact, she couldn't move a single muscle or even make a sound.

The horror of her nightmare began creeping back over her like a relentless weed as she tried so hard to move anything – a finger even, but nothing would work. All she could do was stare out at the room.

It was then she noticed something that caused her skin to chill and all colour drained from her face as all out panic set in.

There, in the corner of the room, stood a 9 foot tall man-like shape cast in pitch black.

She tried to scream but the only sound her throat made was barely audible even to her. She tried to shake her body into movement but it abandoned her. Tears formed in the pits of her eyes as the foreboding figure began to inch its way closer. It didn't move like any Human or Elf, but seemed to flicker and glide above the floor. It radiated pure malice and the nearer it came, the sicker she felt, until it came to float directly beside her, staring at her with cavernous black eyes boring into her mind with absolute hatred.

This thing despised her she felt and she knew it wanted her dead.

It continued to just stare at her as she looked up at it in abject terror. It remained there for what felt to her like hours, when suddenly, without warning, it leapt on top of her – its black hands tightly wringing her throat. Her heart beat wildly and tears streamed down her cheeks.

'It's going to kill me and I can't do anything about it!' she thought remorsefully.

She desperately tried to gasp for air but its grip was vice-like and she couldn't draw a single breath. It felt as if it were draining away her energy into itself.

'Legolas…help m…' she felt on the verge of unconsciousness when all at once brilliant light was cast into the room and as it struck the thing it simply faded away into nothingness.

Caliel flew up at once heaving for air, clutching her throat.

Legolas saw her distress and rushed over to her repeatedly asking what was wrong.

It was several minutes before she could breathe normally and regain the ability to speak.

"L-light…m-more light," she stuttered.

Legolas looked at her with concern but didn't question her. He got up at once and went over to the closest candelabra and raised his hand above it. Caliel watched as he softly sang words unknown to her and jumped as a small flame suddenly burst forth from the wick.

"H-how d-did you d-do that?" she cried out shrilly.

Legolas smiled gently at her before walking to the next one.

"A gift from my mother," he answered simply, before repeating his actions.

When the flame appeared this time Caliel didn't jump but she was no less fascinated by it and his answer wasn't enough to satiate her curiosity.

"How..?" she started but Legolas quickly interrupted, changing the subject.

"Your dream- what was it about?" his voice was cool as he went over to the final candelabra.

"My dream…" Caliel's eyes clouded over once again at the recollection and she stiffened.

Legolas recited the incantation one last time and when she didn't reply he finally looked at her.

"Caliel?" he questioned, more genially this time.

She looked at him and forced a small smile but was silent as her eyes cast over the dim flickering light on the walls.

Legolas followed her direction but continued to press her.

"Why did you so greatly desire light when you awoke? And why were you gasping for air?"

A violent shiver ran through her and she hugged her arms close to her body protectively. Legolas saw this and his eyes narrowed in concern.

She was terrified.

He grabbed a small chair near him and pulled it over to his bed beside where Caliel lay, before falling casually into the overstuffed fabric. He sat slouched with his legs askew and his right arm resting on the arm of the chair, his head tilted and propped on top of his knuckles. He looked at her as if trying to probe the deep recesses of her mind and Caliel watched as his pale blue eyes peered into hers searchingly.

He was the first to break eye contact as his eyes were drawn to the window behind them.

"It is dark already…winter is approaching," he spoke somberly.

'He's not going to force me to talk about it', she realized with relief.

"Y-you don't like winter?" she asked more easily.

"Mmm-mmm," he mumbled, shaking his head. "Nothing grows. It is as if the forest becomes a graveyard- the leafless tress as headstone to the barren earth. Few animals wander about and even fewer birds remain. It is quiet…and lonely. The Wood desires her inhabitants and grieves their absence."

Caliel began to wonder on the extent of differences between Elves and Humans and a question formed in her head, but she was hesitant to ask it for fear of sounding ignorant. She leaned closer to him and opened her mouth to speak but stopped herself.

"Go on," Legolas promoted.

If he could get her to talk about other things then perhaps she would be more removed from her dream and be able to speak more freely on it later.

She paused a moment before asking.

"Can Elves…I mean, can you speak with nature? You said the Wood grieves the animals loss…is that what it really feels or are you romanticizing?"

Legolas remained silent considering her question carefully.

"It is not through a spoken language that you or I would use, but rather…a _feeling_ conveyed. I do not know the thoughts of the Wood, but I can sense her condition- whether she is sickly or lonely, or contented and at peace. Her feelings weigh heavily upon my own as if we were one."

Caliel recalled Legolas' earlier remark when lighting the candelabrum about how it was some kind of gift from his mother. She wondered if this was something unique to Legolas or commonly shared by all Elves.

"Can all Elves do that? Speak, or I guess, _understand_ nature? Or are you special?"

Legolas smirked at her phrasing and decided to have some fun with her – eliminate some of the worry from her mind. A teasing smile still on his lips, he cocked his head toward her and asked playfully.

"Do you think that I am 'special'?"

She knew he was kidding but she couldn't keep the redness from her cheeks and so she lowered her head, hoping to hide her face in her hair.

Legolas couldn't contain his amusement as his smile widened and a diminutive laugh escaped him.

"No," he finally declared, after settling himself. "All Elvenkind posses some degree of nature communal, however I will say that I believe my people the most apt at this. Among other Elves we are considered," he paused to add effect and his lips once again curved into a playful grin, "rather _feral_."

"Feral"? Caliel returned his smile but her eyebrows wrinkled slightly in confusion.

They didn't seem the least bit wild to her. What must other Elves be like to consider Legolas and his people so?

Legolas laughed at her expression and leaned back into his chair.

"Yes. To others, we are thought to be violent and quick tempered and lacking in the so-called 'finer arts' in life that are so highly valued amongst other Elves. They _vastly_ underestimate us though."

Legolas eyes glinted and Caliel watched as they caught the reflection of candlelight. The flames appeared to dance madly within them and she felt her heart begin to beat faster. She felt as if she were being allowed a glimpse into another side of him, one that was both mischievous and relaxed, yet strong and with willful determination. He clearly loved his people very much and took great pride in his heritage.

So wrapped up in these thoughts had she become that she was completely unaware that she had been staring openly at him for far longer than she should have.

Legolas shifted in the chair as she continued to look at him with an almost adoring look. It was his turn to feel a little flustered now.

"What…is it?" he laughed quietly, touching his fingers to his chin.

"Why do they underestimate you? They don't seem like they hold a terribly high opinion of you and I can't understand why. You've been absolutely wonderful to me. That description is the furthest away from you I could imagine," Caliel sounded as though she were personally offended by that description as annoyance laced her words.

Legolas lips pursed as he flashed her a mirthless smile.

"That is not entirely true…though I do thank you for your kind words."

"Huh?" Caliel looked over at him questioningly but Legolas dodged the question.

'He's too good at that', she thought begrudgingly.

"While my people may not be among the finest musicians, or poets, or scholars they posses a spirit unlike any other. Here, rank and titles are not so highly valued and it is based on your _actions_ that your worth is determined. I suppose that thought process is inconceivable to many Elven Lords and that is why they believe us to be primitive. But I believe our way is the correct way. I want my people to respect me based on my _ability_ to protect and guide them not simply because of what _blood_ flows through my veins."

Caliel sat in silent admiration. He really seemed like a Prince to her now – a fact that had been hard for her to wrap her head around prior. As he spoke of his hopes and desires for his realm she felt an all consuming need to help every last one of his wishes and dreams come to fruition.

"One day," Legolas continued, lowering his voice in conviction. "I intend to bring honour and recognition to this land and have my people counted among the greatest that ever were in Arda."

"I think if anyone can do it, you can," Caliel said earnestly.

Legolas made a funny noise in the back of his throat that resembled a broken laugh.

"Perhaps one day, however, there is little that can be done at present."

He sat up in his chair once again and his serious expression vanished as he dawned a more impassive one.

"Ah, but enough talk of such matters. I fear I will bore you back to sleep if I continue," he winked at her slyly and she made to protest but he continued, "I do know something that may be of interest to you though."

"Oh?"

"Do you recall who Bogwen is?"

Caliel frowned.

"That bull of a person masquerading as an elf woman?"

Legolas lowered his head to hide the smile tugging at his lips.

"So you do remember."

"Unfortunately so."

Legolas paused and looked at his hand before looking back at her. When his eyes met hers they had once again become somber.

"It would seem that she is Raenion's betrothed."

"What!?" Caliel was surprised, but if it were true…she began to feel a sting upon her conscience for her possibly overly critical comments toward the elleth. It would seem she had an explanation for her abnormal behaviour after all.

Gathering from Caliel's silence, Legolas surmised she had been thinking the same thoughts that had raced through his mind the second he saw Bogwen on the other side of the door.

Caliel wondered if she should say something to her, then again, what could she say? 'Hey, sorry about your husband-to-be'? She didn't really know her and she certainly disliked Caliel although she wasn't sure-

"-That's why…" Caliel exclaimed abruptly as she finally understood Bogwen's inherent hostility toward her.

"Why what?" Legolas queried with interest.

"That's why she hates me- because she blames me for what happened to Raenion."

Legolas shook his head.

"I do not think-"

"-No, it's alright, Legolas. I know it's not my fault, but at least that's the reason she hates me and it means she doesn't hate me purely because I'm human. It's probably weird, but somehow that makes me feel better."

Legolas smiled sadly at her but didn't argue, she was likely correct in her conclusion.

The clock ticked on overhead, the hands indicating it was nearly 10 P.M. Outside the sun had long ago set and the stars lit up the evening sky. The sound of insects buzzing and chirping could faintly be heard along with the hungry call of a night bird.

Caliel's thoughts were still with Bogwen but Legolas had realized something as he reflected on what she had said. It was a small thing, but for some reason it made him happy.

"That is the first time," he mused, his eyes shining as though they held a secret within.

"What?" Caliel had heard him speak but didn't catch what he had said.

Legolas eyes held that familiar mischievous glint that radiated triumph.

"That is the first time you have used my name," Legolas observed smugly.

Caliel didn't understand his amusement.

"Why wouldn't I use it? That's your name isn't it?" she looked at him like he was crazy.

"It is, it is, however…" he rested his chin on his palm. "I enjoy hearing _you_ say it. It makes me feel as though you are no longer fearful of me because of who and what I am and perhaps you at last see me only for myself."

Caliel was taken aback – she hadn't realized he had picked up on that and she wondered if Elves could sense emotion from other things and not just nature.

"Legolas-"

"-You need not apologize for feeling as you did. After all, I did throw you into a dungeon when you were injured…I am eternally sorry for that by the way…"

Caliel instinctively reached out and placed her hand on his shoulder to bridge the gap between them. Legolas jumped a little at her sudden touch and lifted his head from his palm as he stared transfixed on her hand before slowly travelling up her arm and back to her eyes.

"You've already explained that," she said firmly. "You don't have to keep apologizing – I forgive you. I have awhile ago now," she smiled warmly and slid her hand from his shoulder across his back and pulled him close to her, her head coming to rest against his.

Legolas' eyes widened and his heart jumped. She was so close to him he could feel her breath on his ear, the likes of which sent shivers down his spine. Without thinking, he stood and embraced her back, holding her closer to him as he wrapped his hands around her waist. Her soft hair brushed against his face and he could smell a faint aroma of lavender.

'How fitting', he thought to himself. Contrary to the thunderous beating in his chest, Caliel calmed him in a way nothing else could as of late, and it was with great reluctance that he let her go when he felt her separate from him.

He cast his eyes over the clock above them: 10:20 P.M.

"Well, I should give you your medicine now and let you get some rest. This is the last vial correct?" Legolas asked, avoiding looking at her as he went about rummaging through the desk, pretending to have forgotten where he put it. In actual fact, the vial lay neatly tucked away in the corner nestled in a small wine-coloured handkerchief.

Caliel's eyes were downcast. She remembered where Legolas had put it but she didn't want him to find it and hoped that he wouldn't.

'I guess it doesn't matter', she thought with sadness. 'Even if he can't find it Nestor would only make another one and I'd have to leave anyway…but where will I go?'

The now all too familiar feeling of tears stinging her eyes returned to her as her vision blurred. She was so frightened by the thought of being alone and now with her horrific dream, or whatever that was, she felt an awful sense of foreboding – like something was hunting her but biding its time until it found the perfect opening. If she left these halls she would be vulnerable.

"How's Raenion?" she asked precipitously, trying hard to keep her voice stable.

Maybe if she could distract him a bit longer he would give up searching and she wouldn't get the medicine tonight. Who knows how long it had taken Nestor to create the potion: days, weeks- maybe months!

'Even if it's only a day, at least that's one day longer to think', she resolved.

Legolas stopped pretending to move things and stood still, his eyes staring hard at the vial disdainfully. Reluctantly, his hand wandered over and he felt the sharp tip of the vial prick his finger dully. He tapped his finger across it several more times before sighing audibly and snatching it away, shoving the drawer shut.

Caliel looked at him oddly. Was he mad about something? But when he turned around his face appeared relaxed and calm.

'Huh, maybe I imagined it', she wondered.

Legolas came and sat back in his chair fiddling with the stopper on the vial. As Caliel's eyes caught sight of the florescent green liquid she had to look away. There was no escape- by tomorrow, according to Nestor, she would be completely healed.

By tomorrow, she would have to leave.

**xxXXxx**

* * *

><p><strong>Kind of an abrupt ending for the chapter, but to be honest when I write I don't always keep chapter length in mind. While I was looking ahead at what I have written I'm guessing if I kept going this chapter would be around 10k words. <strong>

**Notes!**

**Elven Magical Abilities: I know the extent of this is debated, but that based on different instances it seems like song = magic (like when the Elven army posed as orcs). For the sake of fluidity I'm tweaking this a bit so magic can remain once the song ends to give it semi-permanence. Also remember Legolas hinted at a 'gift' so I'm not necessarily making this standard of all Elves. **

**Regarding Silvan Elves: Different sources I've read say different things about them. Here specifically Legolas is referring only to his (Mirkwood) populace and not to Silvan elves as a whole. So I'm picking traits I believe would be most logical to their lifestyle and reputation. **


	9. Of Elven Therapy

**I do not own anything Tolkien related and I am only borrowing his amazing characters.**

**Chapter 9:**

**Of Elven Therapy and Dream Interpretation **

* * *

><p>Caliel heard a muffled 'pop' and listened as Legolas set the stopper down on the stand beside her. It rolled to the side coming dangerously close to the edge then slowed and turned back on itself before finally coming to a stop.<p>

"Here," Legolas' voice was quiet as he held out the vial to her.

"Can you tell me about Raenion first?" her voice was just above a whisper as she made her last ditch attempt at stalling.

"…of course," Legolas set the vial down beside its mate and relaxed back into the chair.

Caliel also settled into the pillows behind her, thankful that her plan had worked. It wasn't only tomorrow she feared – but the night as well.

"He is not faring well at the moment," Legolas began seriously. "His parents are with him though, and Nestor believes their presence beneficial to his fae – his soul. Nestor started his treatment tonight so according to him if Raenion survives the night then his prognoses is good. It is but a matter of waiting…"

"That must be awful for his parents. To not be able to do anything but watch as their child suffers."

"Indeed it must be. I also worry for Bogwen and Nestor…"

"Nestor? Oh, I guess because Raenion's his patient he feels responsible for what happens to him, right?"

"There is that…but for Nestor it is more personal."

"What do you mean?"

Legolas placed his hands behind his head and leaned back, staring into the ceiling.

"It was nearly 100 years ago now that it happened. Nestor's daughter had been married 5 years before and she and her husband decided they desired a child. It did not take long for their wishes to be answered but she had a difficult pregnancy – her labour was to be even worse. I do not know the exact details, but his daughter did not survive."

"No…" she breathed as she thought of the outwardly jovial healer having to bear such a painful memory.

"To make matters worse, the attending physician was none other than Nestor himself. He felt as though he failed his own child when she needed him the most – that because of his failure she would never look upon the face of her own babe."

"I'm sure he did all he possibly could…"

"That is what my father told him. For months, Nestor would not leave his chambers. Food and water was brought to him but he refused to partake."

"For months?" she gasped. "But, how could he go that long without eatting or drinking?"

"Elven physiology is different than Humans'. Though it makes us strong, we do not necessarily require regular nourishment to sustain ourselves."

"But how..? Never mind…" she shook her head. She'd ask about that later she decided. "What made him finally change his mind? His grandchild?"

"One would think, but alas! that was not the case. He felt guilty for not being able to save her mother and so he deliberately distanced himself from her. She was nearly 4 years old before he eventually got up the courage to face her."

"4!? Why so long? And why did he decide to reach out to her only then? And what made him leave his chambers if not her?" Caliel spoke each question hurriedly as it formed into her head.

"My father…"

"Your father?"

Caliel thought that was odd. True, by logical deduction if Legolas is a prince then his father must be King.

"Did your father order him back?" Caliel asked thoughtfully.

"No, it was nothing like that."

Legolas eyes past through her as he recalled the events from years ago, his blue eyes distant. They looked hauntingly beautiful to her.

"My father pleaded with him to return to his craft and that his patients needed him- without him there would be no other as skilled as he to care for our injured. He even went so far as to ask if that is what his daughter would have wanted. Still, he refused."

"So what did your father do?"

Legolas closed his eyes and it looked to Caliel that she could faintly see the beginning of a smile but Legolas quickly stifled it before it could blossom.

"My father declared that if Nestor could simply abandon his people so thoughtlessly then he could too. And so he joined Nestor in his self-imposed confinement."

Caliel was intrigued.

"How long did that last?"

"Uh…" Legolas smirked. "By the same evening Nestor had forsaken his quest."

"That was fast!"

"As my father had hoped! Nestor did not wish to cause undue stress upon anyone else because of my father's decision to likewise withdraw. He was quite angry with Father for that and tried to reason with him against it. Father patiently listened to all of Nestor's lecture, then once it was over, he asked Nestor why then he was doing the very thing he was trying so desperately to sway my father from doing. Nestor finally could see how his actions could leave injured people in jeopardy as there would be no Master Healer to tend to them. My father had told him as much beforehand, however he had been so blinded by grief that he lost sight of his value to our people. He stopped believing he was capable and lost all confidence in his abilities to the point where he thought the people would be better without him. When he stopped obsessing on self-pity as he attempted to convince my father to return to his own duties, it seemed as though that break in thought allowed him to reason again."

"Is that what your father was hoping would happen all along?"

"I believe so. Nestor was and continues to be an invaluable pillar of strength to us, not only for his craft, but his wisdom and good humour. He is also the dearest friend my father has and it worried my father greatly to see him in such distress. I think he wanted to end his suffering as quickly as possible."

"That was really kind of your father to go out of his way like that to help Nestor. He must be a great person and king."

Legolas' eyes narrowed and he frowned, then without warning he pressed both hands to the armrests and pushed himself up and out of the chair. He walked briskly toward the balcony doors and stopped, starring intently out the window.

"What is it?" Caliel asked watching him curiously.

"The person I have told you about and the Thranduil who sits on the throne today – they are two entirely different people," he stated flatly, his gaze remaining fixed outside.

Caliel wasn't sure she understood as she stared at him with her head cocked to the side.

"Is Thranduil not your father..?"

Legolas recovered himself from his trance as he turned slightly to see her, his face a mixture of mild surprise and sadness.

"No, that is not what I meant exactly…though, perhaps it is correct…"

"I…don't understand," she confessed truthfully.

He sighed heavily.

"Nor do I," he admitted as he made his way back to the chair near her.

Once seated, Legolas leaned forward sitting on the edge of the cushion, his feet resting firmly on the floor as if to ground him. He pressed his palms together and brought his hands to rest under his chin and thought a minute.

"Thranduil is my father, however he does not even remotely resemble the ellon my father once was."

Caliel's face relaxed as she began to comprehend.

"Did something happen to him?" she asked cautiously, uncertain if she were perhaps touching on a sensitive subject.

"No," Legolas answered in bewilderment. "That is what continues to nag upon my conscience – why did he change so suddenly? If something happened to affect him so, why would he not confide in my mother? Why would he conceal all of his thoughts and actions from her and cut her out like that? Does he not realize how it pained her!?"

There was anger in his voice now and it left Caliel with conflicting emotions, uncertain what to say.

He sighed again and slumped forward, drooping his shoulders in defeat causing his long hair to fall over his face and obscure it from view. A heavy stillness hung in the air as Caliel began to go over everything he had told her.

It was only then upon re-examination did she realize something monumental.

"Wait," she spoke quickly. "How long ago did you say that all happened with Nestor?"

"…nearly 100 years- why? I cannot be certain exactly as I was only young."

Caliel gaped at him incredulously.

"100 years!? But –that's impossible! And what do you mean you were only young!? How!? You're what? 25-30 at the most? Your father can be no more than 50 I would say, but even then he only looks…well, about your age!"

In stark contrast to Caliel's hysterical ranting, Legolas' own reply was collected and even mildly bored as if placating an impetuous child.

"We do not age like the race of Men. Our days are without number."

"But…but what does _that_ mean?" she continued to pry.

"You say that based on my appearance you would estimate my age at approximately 25-30 years old correct?"

"Yes…"

"That is all I will forever look in the eyes of Men for after a certain point we no longer age."

"Then…how old are you? Really?"

She hadn't known his age before and up until now it had not mattered. To her, he seemed generally around the same age as herself and this brought her a small kind of familial comfort. Now faced with the prospect that he could indeed be who-knows how much older she felt apprehensive.

"I am 107 – 8 in October," he added with a smirk.

But the humour was lost on her. She was stunned.

"You're…107?"

"Yes. My father is…considerably older. Sufficed to say he is over 2000 years."

"Oh…"

Caliel's head drooped and she became quiet. Thranduil's incredible age was beyond anything she could imagine and though she should have been more amazed at his advanced age, it was Legolas' own considerably more diminutive age that knotted her stomach.

Legolas had been measuring her reaction and was perplexed. Why was it she seemed upset all of a sudden?

"Caliel?" he questioned in mild concern. "What is wrong?"

She looked up and forced a smile but she couldn't hide the troubled look in her eyes.

"It's just funny- odd- to think that you're so much older than me," she laughed attempting to make light of it. "I thought you were about my age."

Legolas nodded in understanding.

"Ah. That must be quite the revelation for you. Well, since you know my age I think it only fare if you tell me yours. If you have any inkling that is?"

"I…" she faltered.

What _was_ her age? Come to think of it, she didn't even know when her birthday was.

"I think 21 sounds right..? I could be 23… I'm sorry I don't really know," she sighed in frustration.

"Do not worry," he said kindly. "I have only had minor dealings with the race of Men in the past, but based on those accounts I would agree that you look about that age."

"So that would make you about 80 years older than me?"

What did it matter? Why did this bother her so much? It wouldn't change how he thought about her…would it?

"I think that you and I are not so different," he began thoughtfully as he considered her perspective. "We are both thought of as no more than children in our prospective races, even though our own chronological age varies more greatly than among others of our own kind."

Caliel felt a flicker of hope.

"You mean, you don't think of me as a child? You think I'm like you? Age-wise?"

A teasing smile curved delicately across his lips in a manner she was becoming all too familiar with.

"The race of Men are forever children in Elven eyes."

She frowned at him as his grin swept up into a broad smile.

"Well then, this could only be expected of _a child_!" she warned dangerously before apprehending the nearest pillow and whipping it at him forcefully.

Legolas yelped in surprise and tried unsuccessfully to dodge it, having forgotten about the pesky high-back chair he was sitting in.

"Huh…I would have thought Elves would be much more…_nimble_," Caliel observed drolly as she mimicked his conniving grin.

"Listen Human!" Legolas said sternly, pointing a finger at her. "You much learn to respect your betters."

"And I would! Were there any present."

Legolas finger hung in the air as he sighed in exasperation.

"Right then- medicine-now!"

"No, no – please!" she insisted as he made to grab the vial. "I'm sorry. Can't you stay just a little longer?" she begged as she attempted her best puppy dog eyes.

"…very well," he relented as he lowered his arm. "I will stay as long as you need me to."

"Really?" she perked up and a risky thought occurred to her. "Then," she began sheepishly, "would you…stay the night with me?"

"I will on one condition."

She waited eagerly for him to continue- deciding on the spot whatever the condition, she would do it.

"You must tell me what your dream was about."

She grimaced. She was feeling much better after talking to him – that last thing she wanted was to drag that disturbing memory up.

"Among my kind it is believed that dreams which imprint themselves upon us even after our awakening have special significance. We remember them because we must consider their meaning. If it was not important we would have no recollection of it and the fact that yours has upset you so must have importance- to either your past or future, otherwise it would not leave you with such an impression."

"So that's why you want to know so badly?"

"Not for my own curiosity but for your well-being. Perhaps it is a glimpse into your lost memories?"

"If those are what my memories are like then I certainly don't want to remember," she stated bluntly, turning away from Legolas.

"Why? What haunts you so..?"

Caliel shivered as she tried hard to avoid remembering but the more she tried not thinking about it, the more present it was in her mind. She felt as if tiny spiders were crawling up her limbs and shuttered.

"Caliel," Legolas gently coaxed. "I am right here. No harm will come to you."

She swallowed hard and felt herself begin to tremble uncontrollably.

"Will you hold me?" she whispered, needing the reassuring comfort of another's presence close to her.

"As you wish."

He climbed over next to her in bed and wrapped an arm overtop her shoulders and gripped her upper arm reassuringly. His other arm stretched across her chest as he brought his hand to rest on top of his own that lay on her shoulder. He held her tightly against himself and he could feel her shaking in his arms – she was cold to the touch. His heart went out to her and he wanted to comfort her in any way he could so he did the only thing that came to mind.

He sang for her.

His voice was deep and rose and fell in an enchanting melody. Caliel had no idea what it was about, but it brought her comfort all the same. Although, as she listened to him sing, she couldn't help but pick up on the melancholy overtone behind the mysterious words.

It left her longing to know the meaning.

When he had finished the song, she felt a profound calm within and it gave her the strength to confront the awful dream.

"It was dark…" she hugged his arms tightly to herself. "And it was cold…so very cold…"

"Where were you?"

"I don't know. It looked like the ruins of a fortress…"

"Have you been there before? Did it feel familiar at all?"

"No, I don't think I've been there and yet…I _knew_ it. Does that make sense?"

"As if you had only heard tell of it but not having personally been yourself?"

"I guess so. I had no idea what I was doing there but I could sense that I wasn't alone. There was something lingering in the darkness just beyond the shadows. It was watching me, waiting…"

"Waiting for what?"

"A way to get to me. When the moon was eclipsed by a cloud I could feel it coming for me. I was terrified in the darkness and it fed off that. If I could only get to some kind of light then I would be protected from it. I tried…I kept running and running but I tripped and…and…" she faltered as she recalled the building terror she had felt.

"Stay with me, _mellon nîn_…"

His low voice was strong yet compassionate and she drew a deep breath and breathed out slowly trying to steady herself.

"It was upon me in an instant. I could feel it looming above me, its eyes boring into my soul. All I could feel was an overwhelming hatred and malice…"

"What manner of creature was it?"

"I don't know- I never saw it. When I looked up I woke up but it followed me…"

"What do you mean it _followed_ you..?" he asked, becoming concerned.

"Out of the dream. I could see it standing," she slowly pointed to the corner nearest to the door. "Over there…"

Legolas eyes carefully examined the darkened corner but nothing about it seemed amiss.

"Are you certain you were not still dreaming?" he suggested.

"No," she maintained. "I was awake and it was as real as you are. It was a tall black figure- darker than the night. At first it only watched me but slowly it started to come nearer. I tried to scream and run but I couldn't do either. I couldn't move! I was completely helpless…The closer it came, the sicker I felt. It's like its very presence made me ill," she inhaled and exhaled again. "When it reached me it was just like in my dream. It was a being of pure evil, intent on causing me harm. I couldn't see any features but I knew it enjoyed watching me suffer. Then it started to strangle me…at least, it felt like it did, even though it didn't have any arms I could feel hands squeezing tightly, wringing my neck…"

She touched her finger to her collar bone and swept her fingers across her neck. It was then Legolas saw it.

"Caliel, may I see something?" he asked, careful to keep his tone normal as he didn't want to frighten her further.

She wasn't sure what he wanted but nodded for him to proceed.

It was only when she felt him undoing the tie at her back did she tense up. What _was_ he doing?

She felt her face grow hot as he gently pushed down the nightgown away from her neck down to her shoulders, exposing her chest slightly. She sat in embarrassment as he drew her hair back and placed it over her shoulder, giving him access to her neck. She bit her lip as he traced his fingers delicately along her neck.

"What is it?" she asked when she felt with mild relief (and disappointment) him bring the fabric back up and begin to retie the dress together.

"I am uncertain…" he drew a breath to continue speaking but she sensed he was reluctant to continue. "Caliel," he finally said as he addressed her with determination. "I was not sure I should tell you this as I do not want to cause you additional alarm but I feel it is important."

"What?" she felt her nerves begin to stir.

"There is bruising along your neck consistent with strangulation. I could not see it earlier as it was concealed by the collar of your dress and your hair."

"So it was real?"

She felt relieved that at least this was some kind of proof so Legolas would believe her, and yet, the stark reality was – it _was_ real. Which meant, her life was really in danger and that it wasn't just all in her head.

"This is troubling indeed," he said gravely. "Tomorrow I will bring it to the attention of my father. If something is hunting you then you will find no safer place than within these walls. Even still…it worries me that it was able to wander about so freely…I will stay and protect you tonight. Now I understand why you did not wish to speak of it."

"I didn't," she admitted truthfully, "but I do feel better after confiding in you. And it was thanks to you that I was even able to talk about it. I have to ask, what was that song about anyway?"

Though she really did feel better after talking about the shadow figure, she was still eager to change the subject and stop thinking about it and what it meant.

"My mother would sing it to me whenever I had difficult sleeping."

'His mother…' she wondered in awe. Would he finally talk about her now?

"It is difficult to sing in the common tongue but I can try…"

Caliel nestled her head into his chest and closed her eyes, eagerly awaiting to learn the meaning behind the haunting words.

**xxXXxx**

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><p><strong>And just what is that song he is singing to her? It's called Heart of the Ocean by Gaelic Storm…I really wish I could have added it to the story, or at least a few lines, but I don't want to break any rules. I do highly, <strong>_**highly**_** recommend checking the song out on YouTube though. The very first time I heard it my mind immediately went to Tolkien. **

**Notes:**

**1) Okay, so Thranduil and Legolas' birth dates aren't mentioned and I'm taking liberties based on things that are known about Thranduil. Such as he was with his father on the journey to Greenwood before ****Barad-dûr ****was built in 1000 of the Second Age so it's likely he was born late First Age ish. **

**As for Legolas, I had in mind that he would be considered very young for an Elf and thus somewhat naïve and 'innocent' in this story. Also, I am not sure where in the timeline this is all taking place. Definitely way before the Hobbit but as far as specifics go I can't say exactly. **

**2) So here is a problem when you write stuff out of order…I forgot to have Caliel meet Thranduil sooner. I had originally written the scene with the thought in mind that she had met Thranduil and thus made comments about how he is now versus how he seemed in Legolas' story….oops. I rewrote it but I'm not happy with it as I prefer my original version better, but thankfully it didn't encompass much of their conversation so I didn't have to change much. **

**3) Dreams! Different cultures believe in dream interpretation and considering Elves can sometimes possess foresight I could, for this reason, see this being something they would practice. **

**4) The inspiration for the creature Caliel saw is based on accounts of things people have seen while experiencing sleep paralysis. I have only experienced that once and thankfully all I saw was a huge tarantula crawling on my pillow but it's an awful experience. **


	10. Of a World Beyond

**I do not own anything Tolkien related and I am only borrowing his amazing characters.**

**Happy Thanksgiving! In Canada we have ours tomorrow so it's been a busy weekend. **

**MikomiCosplay****: Thanks for the review and suggestion! It's funny you should mention that about the betas. I was actually talking about this a few days ago and my husband offered to do it for me. So, I figure I'll let him have a shot at it (after all, I can't really refuse without hurting his feelings ;) and see how it goes. He didn't have time to read this chapter though since he's the one that cooks the turkey but this coming week promises to be much calmer (I hope). If you happen to see a particular error I keep making could you point it out? Grammar has never been my strong suit and sometimes even knowing the official definition (like with effect versus affect) my mind still gets it mixed up. You seem really knowledgeable on the subject so I'd love your input. :)**

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><p><strong>Chapter 10<strong>

**Of a World Beyond**

"That was beautiful…" Caliel murmured as Legolas sang the last words of the song. "But, it's kind of sad too. Your mother really sang that to you to help you fall asleep?"

"It is a song nearly as old as the sea itself. It is commonly sung as it holds dear to our hearts an inevitable fate that all my kind will share in one day."

"What kind of fate?" she asked feeling a sinking feeling grip her heart as she listened to his explanation.

"One day we shall all depart Arda until no more of my kind remain. Some have already chosen to depart never to return – like my mother."

Caliel twisted around in his arms to see him.

"Your mother left you?" she gasped in disbelief. "Never to return? But, what about you and your father? How could she..?" she trailed off, unable to articulate her complete incomprehension of his mother's actions.

Legolas response further confused her.

"It was best for her. This world…was too much for her to bear. I fear what would have become of her had she remained."

"But if she is no longer in this world, does that mean…did she die?"

"No," Legolas hastily corrected. "We cannot die. Though we _can_ be killed- but that is not what I am talking about. My mother sailed to the Undying Lands to be once again with her kin."

"But aren't _you_ her kin?" her brows furrowed as she became agitated. How could she leave him like that? Why didn't she bring him with her?

"Yes, but I did not wish to follow. Not yet. Though, she did try to persuade me."

"So why did she leave?"

Legolas sighed and carefully chose his words as he could tell Caliel was becoming upset by them and he didn't want her to misunderstand and think badly of his mother.

"To understand why I must first tell you about her. Her name was Elanorel. When I was little I thought her beauty second to none. Not even the fabled Lúthien could compare. Her hair shone in likeness of the morning sun but was often wild and untamed like the forest. Her eyes are what I remember most, for they resembled the clear crystal blue of a sky just after a storm. Her eyes were a reflection of her spirit for that was how she was- peaceful. She possessed an inner calm I have not felt since I was an infant and she had boundless patience. Although, I do recall testing just how much she actually had…"

He chucked at some passing memory as Caliel tried to picture her from his description.

"She was the counter to my father's often volatile temper. It seemed as though only she were capable of quieting his fury."

Legolas' eyes darkened and he fell silent.

"Why is he so angry?" Caliel asked timidly.

"I have wondered the same thing many a time and truthfully I cannot say. Perhaps there is no reason and it is only him. It is a trait I, regrettably, share in…"

She was quick to disagree.

"You don't seem like that at all. I know I've only met you a short time ago but look at all you've done for me. If you were like that I think you would have thrown me out the first night."

She threw him a smirk in hopes of lightening the mood but Legolas shook his head.

"Not to the same degree as him, but I do have a temper that I find…difficult to control at times. My mother was aware of it too and I think that is another reason she wanted me to leave with her; because of my similarities with my father and of the potential problems that could arise from them."

"Was she afraid he might hurt you..?"

"No. He has always reserved a special kind of patience for me. I do not believe so. More…that we would be in frequent conflict.

My father is very strong and does not like to appear weak and so he often kept many of his concerns to himself. He began to keep things even from my mother and it upset her greatly because she felt as though he was distancing himself from her – from us. She said that she could sense a change taking hold of him and try as she might, she could not reach his fae anymore. He blocked her out completely and it wounded her to the core. For you see, when we are married we bind ourselves wholly to one another. The fact that after so many years together she suddenly could not feel his fae would feel as if a part of herself died. That kind of pain…is _unbearable_ to us. I told you how we do not die but can be slain? We can also fall into eternal sleep when our spirits suffer so grievous a trauma we cannot recover.

She pled with him to come with her once. She thought if he went with her then he would be rid of the shadow that plagued him – but he refused. He said that he could not abandon his people and leave them leaderless.

Mother had her own strengths but when she felt father pushing her away she could not bear it. And so, in order to withstand it, she sailed – hoping one day Father would come back to reason and rejoin her."

Caliel wasn't sure she could make the same decision, and she still didn't altogether agree with it, but for now she would let it go. It was clearly a difficult subject for him to talk about as it was.

An important question still hung without an answer though.

"So, then what happened to your father to bring about all of this?"

Legolas stretched his fingers out haphazardly in a shrug.

"I do not know," there was defeat in his voice once again and it gave Caliel renewed determination to help him figure it out.

"What was his usual routine? Did anything different happen? Did he go somewhere or meet with someone?"

"He did not have a routine as you would call it exactly. Mother encouraged him to join us for dinner as much as possible but meetings and work did not always allow for that."

"Alright, so what was going on around that time then? I'm afraid I'm unfamiliar with what royalty do exactly…"

"Preside over all affairs concerning our people in the business of trade, foreign affairs, defense, agricultural exploits, provisions for both armaments and health-"

"Alright, alright. I get it," Caliel said waving her hands. "I guess I should phrase it another way…paint me a picture of a day in your life 100 years ago. And I mean _audibly_, not with actual paint," she added dryly just to be on the safe side.

He arched a brow at her.

"I am aware of your meaning," he quipped defensively. "As you wish. At the time there was still travel allowed between our home and Lórien – I suppose that is a difference."

"Lórien?"

"It is another elvish realm southwest of here. Its full name is Lothlórien, though it is not commonly used here."

"What was the purpose of travel and why was it stopped? Was it abruptly or gradual?"

Caliel's face had wrinkled in deep concentration in a look completely unbefitting of her age. Legolas couldn't help finding it rather amusing.

"You certainly ask many questions for someone so young."

"Hey!" she scolded. "This is serious!"

"My apologies…but do you really think there is much point to this? I have thought on this far longer than you have even been alive."

Caliel glared at him.

"Are you really brining _that_ up again? Fine, you do have a point, but-"

Legolas opened his mouth to speak but she silenced him with a look. He was going to hear her out no matter what. She had resolved to help him and that's damn well what she was going to do. Whether he asked for it or not.

"You _may_ have a point," she rephrased. "But there is one difference between you and me."

"Only one?" he shot.

Oh, where was a spare pillow when she needed it?

When his joke was met with icy silence he bit his lips together and stifled a smirk.

"Go on," he prompted, tapping her shoulder to continue.

"All these years you have been examining the matter with the same eyes – the same mind, and never been able to come up with any explanation. Right?"

"Mmm-hmm," Legolas mumbled in agreement.

"Well, maybe you need a different perspective. A more _human_ perspective."

Legolas was intrigued. Did the young human actually have something?

"Go on…"

"You're right. I am younger. I also don't know many things compared to you and it is for that very reason that I am going to be the one to help you solve this mystery," she proclaimed with confidence. "Because what things you take for a given I may see differently and the smallest clue could make everything fall into place."

Legolas huffed in surprise admiration.

Well, what do you know? She may actually have a valid point.

"Travel was not ceased all at once," he began, "but simply waned over the years. The path became more difficult and dangerous to walk, whether by horse or on foot it did not appear to make a difference. It had existed as a trade route between our homes as there are trees and flowers that grow no where else but Lórien and, conversely, our fauna are considerably more diverse. Often pelts, various smoked meats, and clothes were exchanged for rare herbs and spices used in both cooking and for medicine. Nestor often laments the loss of his favourite flower, Tiutalë. The flowers were harvested in autumn, hung out to dry and then crushed. It was brewed just like tea and its pain relief affects were nearly instantaneous. Mother had to use the last of his stock on me when I broke my leg- but that is another story entirely."

"I can imagine," Caliel scoffed. "One I expect to hear later," she said grinning. "But what happened that the route was deemed 'too dangerous'?"

"The climate had been odd for that year. Heavy rains combined with a cool summer made for treacherous grounds – especially around the outer cliffs on our boarders. There were also rumours of attempted abductions by orcs."

"Abductions? Could that have something to do with it? Or is that common place..?" she lowered her voice not entirely wanting to hear the answer.

"Unfortunately," Legolas regretfully informed her. "It was not _uncommon_. Orcs are vile scavengers without morals or culture. They seek only their own immediate fulfillment and capturing people, of any race, is a disease of theirs. The ones deemed strong are often put to use as slaves and are beaten until they can no longer carry out their burden, at which point they either drop dead on the spot or are killed shortly thereafter.

Disobedience is not tolerated. The ones who make poor slaves: the young, the old, the sickly, and my kind – as we would rather seek our own deaths than conform to their wills- they are ransomed. It is a grimly efficient process as every elf, man, and even dwarf, knows that orcs are pitiless and kill without remorse. The only options to obtain a loved one's release are to pay their price or launch an assault and pray to the Valar you are faster in battle than your enemy. Orcs do not waste resources prolonging the lives of worthless captives and so any ransom that goes unpaid within the allotted time ensures death for the hostage.

They are truly a barbaric race," he hissed in disgust.

Caliel grimaced.

"Now I really want to go outside and explore! Giant infectious spiders, malevolent shadow figures, and now orcs!" she cried sarcastically as she raised her arm and pressed it to her head shaking it in disbelief. "I don't want to leave here…" she pled to Legolas in a whisper.

"Nor do I desire for you to leave," he replied earnestly, drawing her closer to himself. "I will make Father see reason tomorrow. I swear it…"

Caliel didn't have much hope for that but nodded anyway.

"Didn't people miss travelling from one place to another?" she asked after a time.

"No, the elves of Lórien were – are- _different_ from us. They are strange to us, as we are likely to them. Relations were always civil, but there was a palpable undercurrent of superiority among them. You recall I told you how our kind are viewed as savage? Those elves undoubtedly share in that belief."

"What? Why? Aren't elves…elves? What does it matter if your customs are a little different?"

"It goes deeper than that I am afraid…there are several bloodlines and a long, often painful history of rivalry and even bloodshed. Though none seek to repeat that shame, it cannot be erased or forgotten entirely. And anyway, my people were busy with vinification, as it was Father's newest passion at the time, and he sought to master it."

Caliel felt as if the word was vaguely familiar, or at least, _similar_ to something else but she was growing far too tired to think on it at any length.

"What's that?" she asked as a small yawn escaped.

"Wine making," he clarified.

"Ah. You make wine? Can I try some?" she asked yawning again.

"We do not pursue it with the same fervor as back then, but there are some reserves left in the unsealed caverns. At one point there were so many barrels we ran out of room in the usual cellars. Father had to reopen abandoned passages beneath and restore them to house the surplus wine."

Caliel fought the growing heaviness in her eyelids as she racked her brain for more questions to ask. It felt so nice being able to talk to him like this that she didn't want it to end. In his arms she felt comfort and for a moment she forgot all her pressing fears about the future.

"Well, mellon nîn," Legolas announced as he leaned her forward to allow himself to retrieve the bioluminescent vial. "I fear the inevitability of your immanent departure into dreamland. And so, it is with great reluctance, I must call an end to this delightful conversation."

He plucked the top off and placed it at his side and handed the vial to Caliel.

"Enjoy…"

Caliel didn't need to turn around to envision the obvious grin plastered across his face. She sighed in resignation and brought it to her lips. She wrinkled her nose in disgust at the pungent scent.

"Can you pinch my nose?"

Legolas gave her a funny look for her strange request.

"Whatever for?"

Caliel thought it blatantly obvious.

"I can't move my other arm too well so I need you to do it for me."

"But why?"

He was clearly baffled by this.

"So I won't taste it! You know, it's like how if you have a cold and your nose gets stuffed and you can't taste anything. If you pinch the bridge of your nose tightly you won't taste what you're eatting or drinking."

"How very odd…that must be a peculiar sensation indeed," Legolas speculated seriously.

"You mean you've never been sick before!?" she asked in disbelief.

"No. Illnesses are not common among elves. Though, as you have heard with Raenion there are the rare exceptions to the rule."

Caliel felt as if she should be more surprised at this than she was. Perhaps it was just another tick on the list of Elven Amazements at this point.

"Well, either way, will you do it?" she queried.

"If you insist…" Legolas hesitantly reached around to her nose and laid his fingers against it. "Here?" his asked, voice full of uncertainty.

"No, lower," she instructed and smirked, happy to know something he didn't for once. "Good. Now, press firmly on '3'. 1, 2…3!"

On 3 Legolas did as he was asked and watched as she downed the medicine in one gulp. He released her nose, still eyeing her critically.

"Did it work?" he asked dubiously

She made a face.

"Not really. You're supposed to press harder than that!"

"Any harder and I would have broken your nose!" he defended hotly.

"Mmm-hmm," Caliel mumbled skeptically before yawning.

Legolas cooled off as he realized the medicine was already taking effect. He could feel her body relax into his as her breathing began to slow.

"Legolas?" she called, her voice soft and weary as she teetered on the edge of sleep.

"Yes?"

"What does that word mean?"

Legolas thought but wasn't sure to what she was referring.

"What word, _mellon_?"

"That one," she answered more strongly as she recognized the word in question.

Legolas smiled kindly.

"It means 'friend'. May I call you that?"

She tried to smile but couldn't get her muscles to co-ordinate. She felt overwhelming happiness and frustration at her inability to express just how touched she was by that. There was so much she wanted to say to him! His face was close to hers as he awaited her reply. With what little consciousness she retained she leaned her head back into his and touched her lips to his cheek. She wanted to kiss him, to show him her appreciation, but her lips wouldn't move. She hoped he would understand as she fell completely asleep.

Legolas placed his hand atop her head and at once he knew she was no longer awake. He ran his hand through her hair and before he realized what he was doing he had brought his lips nearly to hers. He stopped himself in shock yet continued to stare at them longingly.

She wasn't awake. She wouldn't know.

He bit at the skin inside his lip. 'This is wrong', he kept telling himself.

"Madness…" he spoke aloud but it held no greater impact.

'She is human, this could only end in tragedy', he affirmed in his mind. But his mind was gradually losing sway. He drew closer as if magnetized by her lips and was but a hair's breadth away when suddenly the double doors of the balcony were flung wide open with such force they were sent ricocheting off the walls.

Legolas protectively pulled Caliel close to himself and craned his neck toward the doors. He instinctively drew his leg up and reached down to his boot as his fingers located the upper crossguard of his dagger. His well-trained eyes quickly scanned the open doorway and room from anything out of the ordinary but saw nothing unusual.

He remained braced for attack but as seconds turned into minutes he relaxed and returned the dagger to its scabbard in his boot. He drew a steady breath as he carefully detangled himself from Caliel and laid her down, pulling the duvet up over her body.

A strong breeze blew against his back tousling his hair about as stray leaves scurried across the floor carried in by the wind. He went close to the doors, watching the deadened leaves out of the corner of his eye as they twirled steadily from view as he came to rest his hands upon the silver handles, surveying the balcony a final time.

In the sky, dark storm clouds had gathered and a strong wind sent them chasing after the crescent moon, holding it hostage and ransoming all light. The scent of coming rain lingered heavily in the air and an electrical energy pulsated all around him. Leaves were ripped from the branches as the trees bent so low they nearly touched the ground.

It would be an intense storm.

Thankfully Caliel was sleeping deeply and wouldn't hear it. After her nightmare, the last thing she needed was to hear the ceaseless torrent of wind and rain this storm would surely bring.

Cold droplets of rain began to hit the balcony floor one by one as Legolas closed the doors firmly. No sooner had he done so then the clouds opened up and unleashed their fury on the mountain. He watched as a streak of lightning veined across the sky and a deafening boom followed soon after. The storm was right on top of them, he realized.

"How odd…" he muttered.

Normally he could sense when rain was coming – especially a storm of this magnitude. And yet he had no notion of its coming until it was upon them.

He had an uneasy feeling in his fae as he continued to watch the tall trees thrash about as if there were freshly sprouted seedlings.

In a quick, fluid motion, he slid the bolt across the latch and locked the doors.

Maybe it was just the effect of the storm, but Legolas could swear he felt someone's presence near by, watching him. The feeling of eyes on one's back is not too easily forgotten – especially to a warrior. Listening to that nagging voice had saved him from harm in the past and he wasn't about to go carelessly dismissing it now.

He drew the heavy crimson curtains across the doors and ensured there were no openings to spy through.

The feeling was gone.

This both relieved and concerned him. Thankfully they were no longer the object of someone's interest and were safely concealed behind closed doors. But that also confirmed that someone _was_ out there, hiding in the shadows, watching them. And during a fierce storm no less.

Legolas ensured Caliel was alright, then went toward the hallway door and waved over the nearest guard. He came at once, a tall blond ellon with an expressionless face as he awaited his orders.

"Yes my Lord?"

"Have all off duty guards summoned at once. I want extra ellyn assigned to all entrances and exits and any openings large enough to be used as one. There is an intruder out there- I know it. I want him caught or eliminated if need be, but his capture is foremost! I want to interrogate him. Is this understood?" Legolas was tense and his eyes stern.

"Yes my Lord. It shall be done at once."

"One final thing," Legolas said firmly as the guard hurriedly turned on his heels preparing to carry out his orders without delay.

"Sir?"

"After you relay my instructions I want you and 3 more ellyn to return and stay posted outside my door. Should you have even the slightest inkling something is amiss you have my permission to enter the room without warning. Do you understand?"

The faintest flicker of hesitation broke the guard's stone faced masque.

"Do you understand?" Legolas repeated more strongly.

"Yes, my Lord!" the guard bowed quickly before running off at nearly full tilt.

Legolas didn't watch but instead went right back to his room, shutting the door behind him. There Caliel lay, just as tranquil as he had left her. A small smile graced his face as he came and lay at her side once again.

Maybe he was being too cautious? Maybe his father's paranoia was catching he thought wryly as he leaned his head back on the pillow behind him. He sighed as he beheld Caliel's sleeping face.

He couldn't deny it anymore.

He knew he had feelings for her. He just wasn't sure _what_ they were. He knew he wanted to protect her and keep her safe from harm. He also wanted to help her regain her memories…or did he? If she suddenly remembered everything then what if she remembered her parents? Maybe she was betrothed to someone…or even already married? Humans lived such short lives they had to marry very young it seemed.

Legolas rolled onto his side, facing away from her.

Why did this bother him?

It would be a good thing for her if she had these things. It would give her a place to belong to and direction to her life. She could be married, bare children, and grow old with her husband.

_Together_. _They_ would be together and _he_ would be alone.

He rolled restlessly onto his back again and shut his eyes forcefully. He knew it was selfish of him to want for her to stay here forever. After all, she was physically incapable of doing so as at some point she would die.

Legolas opened his eyes and sighed for what seemed like the hundredth time that night, and turned his head toward his blissfully ignorant bedmate.

"Caliel…" he breathed, his face pained.

"_What are you doing to me?_"

**xxXXxx**

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><p><strong>Notes:<strong>

**1) I'm using the broad term "Undying Lands" versus specifying Valinor or Tol Eressëa since they're kind of the same…but not. From what I've gathered the kin slayer tainted elves were semi-forgiven but only allowed on Tol Eressëa, an isle **_**close**_** to Valinor but not on Valinor itself. So since Legolas is talking about all elves in general I'm saying Undying Lands since not all go to Valinor…like Galadriel, apparently, given her blood (Finarfin)…but I'm not sure if her refusal of the ring waved that entirely or not (I think so?). Her back story was changed so many times I confuse them sometimes.**

**2) Tiutal****ë is, according to Google, Quenya for 'comfort/consolation'. I'm having this as an excellent pain reliever. It's in Quenya and not Sindarin because since the plant is in Lórien I'm thinking it is like the ****mallorn trees in that they were transplanted from elsewhere. Also Quenya seems associated with ritualistic ceremonies so herbs/flowers would be part of that as well. **

**3) Yes Merry and Pippin were treated medically by orcs to stay alive but I think that was an exception to the rule. The orcs mentioned in this story are independent…ish and wouldn't waste their 'medicine' on anyone but themselves. **

**4) So for the medicine I deliberately picked the adjective 'bioluminescent' since it basically is saying how the medicine literally has tiny organisms in it- lovely eh? ;)**


	11. Of Nefarious Deeds

**I do not own anything Tolkien related and I am only borrowing his amazing characters.**

**Thanks to all new readers! I'm so happy you're enjoying it!**

**LurkingLady: You weren't rambling at all. I'm glad you liked it and that the notes were helpful! I sometimes wonder if I'm making any sense lol. I'm curious about the story behind your initial resistance to the trilogy though, but I think I can guess because I did the same thing at first. Although I loved the Hobbit and read it probably 10 times as a kid I did put off LOTR until my teens for some reason. **

**Lyane de Rivesen****: Thanks for reading and taking the time to review. :)**

**So this chapter is comparatively shorter than my last ones but it was the only natural stopping point that ensured it wouldn't be insanely long. The next part I want to keep as all one chapter since it's semi-separate (but relevant). I promise to have the next chapter up in a few days though. :) **

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><p><strong>Chapter 11<strong>

**Of Nefarious Deeds**

Bogwen sat alone on a small bench carved from the remains of a fallen tree.

She had stopped crying only when she felt the cold trickle of rain water running down her face as she turned her eyes skyward and beheld the oppressive darkened clouds looming overhead. She had been completely wrapped up in her grief that she hadn't even noticed the storm approaching.

Her face was warm with freshly fallen tears and the coolness of the rain felt refreshing. She leaned back on her hands and closed her eyes as the flow of rain steadily increased, sending droplets running from her cheeks down to her neck and chest. Before long she was soaked through as the sky opened up and cascaded down around her.

Yet still she sat.

She slumped her head forward and wiped away the water from her eyes, opening them to witness the fury of nature. It had occurred to her to seek shelter, but she had grown so tired of being trapped in that claustrophobic mountain. Though she had devoted her life to the service of her king, she couldn't fathom how he and the prince could reside there with the long winding passageways and a perpetual dampness that hung ever in the air.

To dwell in mountains was the fate of dwarves, not elves.

She would never feel completely comfortable there and she greatly desired to return to the forest indefinitely. She thought that dream would finally be realized when she and Raenion were finally wed. Now it all seemed like a distant dream as he lay there in that medical bed, his life hanging by a thread.

She raised her fist and brought it down hard on the wooden surface, bruising her knuckles in the process.

"A curse upon them all!" she swore passionately as fresh tears clouded her sight.

Using her forearm, she hurriedly wiped away the unshed tears with the sleeve of her dress. She felt a twinge of pain as her arm came into contact with the bridge of her nose and she rolled back her sleeve in confusion.

Small greyish bruises dotted her forearm like soot upon snow.

She stared at the marks recalling with anger when the prince had grabbed her so roughly earlier that day.

"All because of that human…"

She made a fist with her hand and watched the bruised skin tighten and her eyes twitched about madly as a wicked scheme began to take shape within her mind.

**xxXXxx**

Thranduil collapsed heavily onto the large couch before him. It was dark green in colour and cast in a soft velvety fabric- the perfect place to finally rest and catch up on his reading. In light of recent events, he had been neglectful of his books and greatly desired to escape within their hallowed pages.

He had no sooner settled himself and begun reading when there came several short knocks in rapid succession.

Thranduil rolled his head back and groaned, closing his eyes as if to will the offending person away. He didn't know why, but it seemed whenever he opened a book (or sometimes even thought to) without fail, he would be interrupted.

There came 4 more quick knocks but they weren't as loud as before, almost as if the perpetrator were losing confidence.

Thranduil opened his eyes and stared at the door in indecision. Perhaps if he made no effort to answer the person would give up entirely and leave. Then again, there were few places he would be at this hour and if the matter were urgent it was likely they would go searching for him only to end up back at his door step once again.

A low growl emanated from his throat as he hoisted himself up and tossed his book aside, listening as it made a muffled 'thud' as it landed somewhere on the couch.

2 more knocks came before he reached the door. He grabbed the handle and threw open the door revealing a very startled elleth- her hand still hanging in the air as if to knock. He glared down at her watching as she slowly lowered her arm and bowed before him.

"My lord, I am exceedingly sorry for troubling you at this late hour…"

Her voice was raw and cracked as she spoke and Thranduil noted with passing intrigue that her hair and dress were completely drenched.

He also noticed the ever-growing pool of water at her feet as rain water continued to drip off the hem of her gown.

"If you are in search of linens then I suggest you try the storage closet on the floor below," he informed her stoically.

Bogwen swallowed hard at the apathetic tone of his voice and felt herself shrink before him in embarrassment. She hadn't thought to change first, instead running straight to his chamber on impulse.

"N-no, my lord," she replied meekly as she arose. "Please…" she hesitated.

'I have to do this!' she thought. 'For Raenion'.

She brought to mind his carefree laugh and lopsided grin and was filled with deep love and longing, focusing on that to bring her the courage she needed.

"I must speak with you," she said firmly.

Thranduil eyed her curiously, observing the strange and sudden change in her composure, yet kept his voice authoritative.

"Regarding?"

"My husband, or rather, my betrothed."

"I am sorry; I will not involve myself in the private affairs of others. I suggest speaking privately amongst your family for advice-"

"-No! That is not possible!" she cried and moved closer to block the door.

Thranduil's brows rose ever so slightly at this; her actions both impressing and aggravating him. He narrowed his eyes in warning.

"I have information," she quickly spoke, shirking from his imposing figure. "Regarding your son, the prince and that…that _human_."

Bogwen stood anxiously awaiting his reaction as he towered over her, staring down at her coldly. She didn't have the slightest idea as to what he was thinking as she stared into his hollow greyish blue eyes. All she could hear was the sound of her heart as it drummed in her ears.

When the king abruptly turned his back to her and returned to his chamber she felt crushed and immediately pictured Raenion lying on that damn medical bed.

"Make it quick," Thranduil ordered through thinly veiled annoyance.

Bogwen looked up at him in surprise as he stood leaning on the heavy wooden door, awaiting her entry.

"Thank-you! Thank-you my lord!" she gushed as she all but ran into his chambers, frightful he would suddenly change his mind.

Thranduil sighed to himself. Apparently his books would be gathering dust yet again tonight.

Bogwen stood nervously in what she presumed was his living area. Tall heavy brown curtains hung down to the floor as they were drawn entirely over the large double doors leading to what she assumed would be a small balcony. On the stone floor beneath her lay on elaborately woven carpet of various autumn coloured designs and immediately to her left was a small sitting area with a formal looking couch opposite a grand stone fireplace.

Thranduil had made his way over to the couch and sat on the side furthest from the fire.

"Sit," he commanded, waving his hand toward the empty cushions beside him.

He watched her impatiently as she fidgeted awkwardly at the sleeve of her dress before at last taking a seat beside him, leaving one cushion between them.

"Would you care for a towel?"

His expression remained aggravated but his tone had softened slightly and Bogwen found herself blushing at the sound of his strong, deep voice.

"No my lord. You need not concern yourself with my well-being."

"I am not," he said impassively as he gestured toward her. "You are getting water all over my furniture."

Bogwen immediately looked down and realized with horror that he was right.

"Oh no!" she shrieked and quickly jumped to her feet.

Thranduil crossed his index and middle fingers, waving his hand as he shook his head.

"Sit," he instructed gently. "What is done is done. Never mind that," he waited until she had sat back down then continued more seriously. "You said you had information regarding my son? What kind of information?"

He narrowed his eyes at her and for the first time his face betrayed a hint of concern.

Bogwen stole her nerves and thought only of her love as she began.

"My lord, I hold an ever growing concern that I feel must be known to you. I assure you if I did not truly believe there were genuine cause for concern I would not bother you."

Thranduil drew little circles in the air with his fingers, disregarding her fears and urging her steadily along.

She took another breath and continued.

"I believe that _woman_ is no simple human," she watched Thranduil's expression stiffen. "I think she is some kind of servant of darkness planted here to create chaos and disorder amongst our people."

"Explain."

"The prince; I think she is trying to use him to get information to bring about our downfall."

"My son is not one to be so easily mislead…"

"I agree without doubt my lord…under normal circumstances. But I believe she may be using black magic to slowly seduce him, making him vulnerable and abusing his affections to suit her plans."

"_His_ _affections_?"

Thranduil looked at her unbelieving and she nodded solemnly.

"It is not only myself that has come to believe this; many suspect the prince may have an…_unnatural_ interest in the human…"

Bogwen watched with hidden glee as Thranduil appeared visibly sickened by the news.

"The prince may not be to blame my lord," she eagerly defended. "If she _is_ using black magic to bewitch him he may be powerless to resist her. The prince is a kind ellon my lord, and being the manipulative creature she is she would have viewed him as an ideal target and taken advantage. After all, who would possibly have suspected some weak, wounded human _child_ of possibly being a threat?"

Whether a trick of the light or by some rare display of overt emotion, Thranduil looked deeply disturbed as shadows cast menacingly across his face.

"What proof do you have of this?" he demanded sternly. "It simply cannot be true…" he added more apprehensively.

Bogwen gripped the hem of her sleeve and carefully began to roll it up her arm as Thranduil watched questioningly before noticing several dark bruises dotting her arm. He looked to her for an explanation.

"The prince…Legolas…he did this to me…" she revealed sadly, hurt radiating from her eyes.

Thranduil gasped and reached for her arm to examine the marks more closely, questioning their very existence despite the grim reality before him.

"What happened?" he asked earnestly as he released her arm.

"It was because of that human. I may have said some things I should not have to her…but I saw her taking advantage of the prince and let her know I knew what she was up to; to protect him, you see. Afterward, I returned to my post in the kitchen and later the prince came. He seemed fine and so I inquired as to why he had no called upon us to bring him some food and he then said it was not for him, but the human…" she looked apologetically at Thranduil. "My betrothed is grievously injured my lord…he lies unconscious in the Healing Halls perhaps never to recover…and it is all because of that human's presence."

"Your betrothed is Raenion?" Thranduil stated with dawning realization.

"Yes my lord. Please understand, I do not blame the prince in any way for my love's condition- only the human. I fear once I learned that _our very prince_ was waiting on her hand and foot I lost control. I was blinded by anger and careless with my words."

"It is not difficult to understand why…you were not without cause."

"Thank-you my lord…" she said bowing her head respectfully. "But I take full responsibility for my actions as there is no excuse. I am an elleth to royalty and should behave in a manner befitting of that station."

"Very good. But how did my son come to lay his hands upon you?"

Bogwen drew her shoulder in and crossed her arms around her waist.

"My words greatly enraged him, my lord. I have never before seen him so…unhinged. He…he yelled at me and grabbed me so harshly I thought my arm would break! It hurt so badly…"

One by one, tears began to run down her cheeks as she hugged her arms close to her now trembling body.

Thranduil stood and in one graceful motion draped his red velvet robe around her.

Bogwen looked up at him stunned as the warm fabric caressed her cold skin.

"My lord?" she breathed in surprise.

Without his heavy robe he appeared vastly different; now only wearing a loose fitting wine coloured tunic with dark tailored leggings. It was the first time she noticed his crown was absent from his head and his silvery blond hair was allowed to freely fall down his back and over his chest.

Seeing him without his elaborate royal robe he seemed so commonly dressed and she marveled at how handsome he actually was. His strong jaw framed out his pale rose lips and his well defined cheekbones elegantly accentuated his piercing grey-blue eyes. She hadn't been able to notice this before as she had been too nervous in his commanding presence.

"You said you needed my assistance in a matter pertaining to your betrothed?" Thranduil inquired, summoning her back to reality.

Bogwen lowered her head in shame at herself. How in the name of the Valar had she allowed herself to think about another like that when her love depended on her!

"Yes, yes that is right," she replied absent-mindedly as she thought on how best to explain her situation to him. "I understand why you do not wish to involve yourself in the personal affairs of your people – truly, I do. But please, this is no ordinary concern. My love is dying and there are only but two ways to save him and his parents have chosen the wrong solution. I am his wife – or soon to be, I meant to say. He has chosen me and I believe for that reason _I_ should have the final say in his treatment. I know him my lord. His fae is strong. His magical potential – even stronger! He can fight this on his own and _win_. I know it! What they are doing right now…it is nearly unbearable. The pain he is going through…I can hear him screaming in my mind and I can feel his agony!"

Thranduil's gaze bore into hers probingly as a growing suspicion pressed upon his mind.

"Bogwen," he began, lowering his voice to convey absolute seriousness. "Are you simply Raenion's _betrothed_…or are you already his _wife_ in the eyes of the Valar?"

Bogwen was taken aback by his bold question but she could not deny it.

"Yes…I am already his wife…" she admitted shyly.

"Then you are correct," he said, voice devoid of all judgment. "_You_ are the one that is entitled to decide what course of treatment he is to take."

Bogwen's downcast eyes widened at his words.

"But his family cannot know! They did not at first agree to the union and we were not certain they would ever come around and so…we could not be separated – it would have been too painful! Then they at last agreed but it was already too late. If they were to find out now that we…"

"Bogwen, I am the king. I need not give reason for my decisions. Fear not. Your secret is yours alone to bear – I care not."

"T-thank-you," she murmured and sighed heavily in relief.

Thranduil made his way toward the door and she at once surmised his meaning, rising herself to follow.

"Have someone take a look at that arm of yours," he said in a tender low voice that prickled her skin.

"Yes my lord," she stammered nervously. "I cannot possibly express the extent of my appreciation for this. Please, if you need anything at all, you need only ask it and it shall be done. Though, I know not what I, a simple maid, could do, but I am forever indebted to you." she said bowing deeply, her hand across her heart.

"It may very well be to _you_ whom the debt is owed…" Thranduil said with reverence as he took her hand in his, kissing it lightly across the knuckles.

All strength drained from Bogwen as she continued gaping at her hand as if a tiny dragon had suddenly appeared on top of it.

Thranduil made to clear his throat and eyed her strangely.

Bogwen blushed scarlet red and gave her best attempt at a smile before walking rather briskly down the lightened hallway out of sight.

Once Thranduil was certain she was finally gone, he shut and bolted the door.

"Foolish child…" he scoffed in disdain as he returned to his poor neglected book.

Taking it in hand, he ran his fingers along the leather-bound cover thinking on his recent conversation and smirked.

"Does she honestly believe I am so passive as to be ignorant of what transpires within these walls? Of course I know of Legolas' odd pre-occupation…and yet if others are becoming aware of it as well then perhaps it is time to call an end to this diversion…"

In the darkness of the room, with only the low fire and embers to cast any light, his eyes burned with delicious deviousness. His lips curved upward revealing his brilliant white teeth, which gleamed savagely in the erratic firelight. He sighed contently as he at long last opened his book, savoring to musky scent like a fine wine, and resumed reading from where last he had stopped.

It would not be long now.

**xxXXxx**

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><p><strong>Cue the music! Dun…dun…dunnnnn! <strong>

**I only have a few notes this time…although one is more a question to grammar enthusiasts. **

**My husband and I cannot agree on the correct usage of "Prince", "My Lord", and "King". In elementary school I remember being taught that if you are referring to someone with a title that said title was used in stead of their name and thus was, in essence, their name and worthy of being capitalized. An example would be my King (although according to some sources I've read, even "my" would be capitalized as it's part of the title: My King). My husband thinks it should all be lower case as it is not their actual name and gives the example that he is an electrician but if someone were to refer to him by his occupation it still wouldn't be capitalized…I'm not entirely in agreement with this and I've researched it a bit and I've gotten different answers. Opinions? I've allowed him to change everything to lower-case regardless. **

**Side Note:**

**According to Tolkien: sex = marriage for elves and there's mention of how marriages were made in flight and thus no formal ceremony was necessary for union as it was the physical union that instigated the marriage. I do find it odd that Celeborn was referred to as Galadriel's 'lover' though, but wonder if this is maybe an older definition of the word? Kind of like how dumb apparently means to numb the tongue and not to be stupid (Dumb Cane plant if you're wondering lol). That reference got me thinking though that maybe things weren't as simplistic as all that and maybe amongst higher status elves a ceremony was required to make things official. This is just my own pondering though and not official but that's my reasoning for the whole Bogwen/Raenion thing. **


	12. Of Years Long Past

**I do not own anything Tolkien related and I am only borrowing his amazing characters.**

**As promised! Here is the new update! I loved writing this I have to say. It may be a tad fluffy but I think a bit of fluff every now and then does the heart well, wouldn't you say? ;)**

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><p><strong>Chapter 12<strong>

**Of Years Long Past**

**Nearly a century earlier…**

Legolas' large blue eyes flew open as a deafening boom resounded about his room. He bolted upright just in time to see lightning crack across the sky, sending countless sinister shadows dancing manically across his walls. His heart raced in his chest as he gathered up the courage to make the mad dash to his door and safety. Having made the trek many a time before, when such circumstances warranted it, he was well aware of the exact number of steps that lay between his bed and his door; 12 being the magic number.

He mentally counted to 3 and jumped out of his bed just as another bang of thunder echoed about him.

He tried hard to ignore the creeping shadows that came with the subsequent lightning but he couldn't help fearing that at any given moment a great nasty orc would materialize out from under his furniture, grab his ankle, and pull him down into the depths and eat him up for its supper.

With a yelp, he heaved the cold metal door handle with all his might and leapt into the brightly illuminated hallway. He stood there panting awhile before thinking on it, looking back into his room, and quickly closed the door behind him breathing a sigh of relief.

He thought he was in the clear until he turned toward his parents' chamber only to see Aglaron staring down at him with a bemused expression. Legolas groaned as the tall blond haired elf approached him.

"My lord," Aglaron greeted neutrally.

Legolas could tell the elf guard had clearly found his narrow escape from the clutches of evil amusing. This angered him and he regarded Aglaron with a sour face.

"That is a most curious expression you are wearing little one. But, I wonder, have you seen my prince? He is about your height, same hair, same eyes – though his face is much more amicable."

"Aglaron…" Legolas said in a low voice, warning him he was not in the mood for such trivial games.

"What?" Aglaron's jaw dropped in an overly dramatic attempt at shock. "My lord, is that you? Tell me, what has put you in such a foul mood?"

"It is this miserable weather!" Legolas proclaimed with a huff. "With all this noise I cannot sleep! My parents' chambers are much quieter than this one," he gestured flippantly to his door behind him. "I wish to sleep there until this awful noise has ceased!"

Aglaron fought a growing urge to chuckle. Such a serious demenour on such a little elf – it was almost too much! Legolas' mimicry of his father was nearly flawless as well which made the whole scene all the more humourous.

Without fail, every storm that arose would inevitable draw the little elflings out of his bed and into his parents'. Ever since he was an infant, he had cried and required comforting each time the elements raged. He had stood watch over his prince from the day he was born and was aware of the truth despite his young master's attempt to convince him otherwise; the simple truth was that the young prince of Greenwood was afraid of thunder. In Legolas' attempt to emulate his father, he had become conscientious of the fact that he needed to appear brave and strong- certainly he could not allow others to know that a big brave elfling such as _he_ was afraid of a little thing like thunder!

And so, Aglaron joined in Legolas' charade.

"But of course, my lord," he touched his chest and bowed to the very much relieved elfling. "Shall I escort you?"

Legolas thought on it- he didn't want Aglaron to think he was afraid to walk the corridor by himself at night…even if it happened to be true.

"I must deliver a message to a friend on the other side of this floor. It is near your parents' chambers – would you do me the honour of accompanying me?"

He extended his hand down to the small elfling and smiled when Legolas placed his tiny hand in his. Legolas grinned back at him happily.

"I would be glad to. But Aglaron, something really _must_ be done about those doors. They let in _far_ too much sound!"

A deep wrinkle formed on his prince's forehead as he brought his fingers to rest on his chin. Seeing this, Aglaron had to turn his head and pretended to admire a picture at his side. He couldn't help chuckling quietly at Legolas as he doggedly continued his obvious farce.

**xxXXxx**

As the mismatched pair rounded the final corner and the royal chambers were within sight, Aglaron released Legolas' hand and bowed to him formally.

"This is where I am afraid I must leave you, my lord. My friend is at the opposite end of this hallway you see."

"Very well, you may go Aglaron," Legolas nodded with practiced authority.

He watched curiously as the guard walked away down to the other end of the hallway. He could have sworn Aglaron's shoulders were shaking as he stared at his back.

"How odd…" he muttered and shrugged. Grown elves were so hard to understand sometimes.

Standing before the door to his parents' room, he raised his hand to knock but stopped himself. The last time he had asked to sleep with them they were already asleep and his Ada had been very cross with him at being awoken. Legolas lowered his hand and decided to listen to see if he could hear any voices. Awake or asleep didn't matter as he intended to go in either way, but if they were already asleep he would just have to do his very best to be as quiet as a falling leaf.

He stepped closely to the large door and pressed his ears firmly against the smooth surface and concentrated. Inside he could faintly hear the sound of muffled voices.

"And so he will be returning to his duties first thing tomorrow."

It was his father's voice.

"That is a great relief!"

And his mother's – excellent! They _were_ awake!

Legolas was about to withdraw from the door and alert them to his presence but then he heard his mother speak again and curiosity got the better of him and he stayed put.

"I was dearly worried for him," she said solemnly. "To spend countless waking hours isolating yourself cannot be healthy."

"No, it could not have been," his father replied soberly. "But fear not my love, tomorrow he will slowly begin reintegrating into his life. It will do him good to focus on his work; interact with others once again, and get his mind off his daughter."

"Will he still not see his grand-daughter?"

His mother's voice was elevated and strained– he recognized that tone. It always accompanied some kind of lecture about being more careful or something boring of that nature.

His father sighed deeply.

"No. But I will not push the matter. For now, it is enough that he has left his private cell."

"I understand…" but she sounded disappointed.

"Enough talk of unpleasant things," his father said in a brightened voice. "I have news! The vinter sent word today that he believes this year's harvest will be the largest he has ever seen- should the weather continue to prove favourable."

"That is wonderful news my love!"

"Indeed. I am most looking forward to it this year. According to his estimate, he believes we shall produce double the amount of wine from the previous year."

Pride was evident in his father's voice and Legolas couldn't help but smile as he shared in his father's joy. He knew how much time he had devoted to mastering the difficult techniques that came with proper wine making practices and how pleased this harvest would make him if everything went well.

"Double?" his mother repeated back apprehensively. "But, is there room to properly house it? Would it not go to waste?"

"Nay my love; for that, I have a plan."

From the other side of the door Legolas could hear the sound of papers shuffling about.

"This!" his father declared triumphantly.

"Will there be time to construct this? Will the grapes not be ready within the month?" his mother didn't share in his father's enthusiasm, instead indulging in a healthy dose of skepticism.

"It will be close," he answered truthfully. "That is why I plan to have every available ellyn reassigned to its construction – myself included."

"_You_ are going to help?" she gasped in shock.

"Elanorel…I am just as skilled with tools as the next elf."

His mother began laughing and before Legolas realized it, he had become infected by her mirth and was snickering along with her.

It was only when his parents' conversation stopped abruptly did he realize his mistake, quickly cupping his hand over his mouth and hoping he had not been heard. He stood frozen in place, careful not to make any noise as he waited apprehensively.

When no one came after several seconds he gingerly pressed his ear back on the door to listen to what was going on.

Silence.

Where were they?

A loud metallic chink sounded above him and suddenly the door swung inward, sending Legolas sprawling to the floor.

His mother laughed again and Legolas sheepishly looked up at her and forced an embarrassed smile. She chuckled to herself, shaking her head at him, her blond tousled hair swaying slightly at the movement.

"Eh-hem."

Uh-oh, Legolas thought as he dawned his sweetest smile and looking angelically up at his Ada.

Thranduil's arms were crossed and he was clearly unimpressed, having long ago developed an immunity to his son's innocent charms.

"Eavesdropping is hardly a habit becoming of a prince…" he chastised lowly.

"I was not eavesdropping Ada. I…I was just checking to make sure you were awake this time. I know how mad you were last time…"

"Is that so?" Thranduil replied doubtfully.

"Come _meleth_…" Legolas' mother said sympathetically as she looked from father to son.

Thranduil sighed and extended a hand down to Legolas, who gladly accepted it, and heaved him up.

"Thank-you Ada!" Legolas chimed happily and tried his second attempt at a persuasive face.

Still Thranduil regarded him with little more than a raised eyebrow.

"Thranduil…" Elanorel urged more earnestly.

Thranduil sighed again and Legolas' smile slowly began to fade. His father saw this and smirked.

"Heh. Honestly, I was surprised that it had taken you this long to arrive. The second I heard the rain beat down upon the trees I had thought to find you curled up underneath the duvet. Imagine my surprise to find not a sleeping elfling but a cold pillow! Do not tell me your fears are subsiding already, _ion nîn_?" (My son.)

With eyes shining, Thranduil smiled lovingly down at his son before ruffling his wispy blond hair. Legolas looked up hopefully at his father with a large grin plastered across his face.

"You mean I can stay!? You will not send me back to my room!?"

Thranduil looked from Legolas to Elanorel and exchanged a brief wordless conversation while Legolas looked expectantly from one to the other.

"Yes, you may. But next time, do try to work on your spying technique? Your stealth abilities leave much to be desired. Though, judging by the amount of time you stood there '_not'_ eavesdropping I can conclude that your patience has improved."

Legolas' mouth dropped as he looked at his father with a mixture of surprise and disappointment.

"You knew I was there the whole time!?"

Thranduil grinned teasingly.

"But of course. You forget I have seen numerous battles _ion nîn_; not even the fiercest of foe can take _me_ by surprise."

"B-but how!?" Legolas cried becoming progressively more upset. "I made sure to be _extra_ quiet! Well…before I accidently laughed I was…"

"Your shadow Legolas," Thranduil gently informed him, taking into consideration how disappointed his young son seemed at the news. "You did not check your surroundings did you? If you had, you would have realized there was a candle directly behind you. When you stepped between it and the door your body blocked out a portion of the firelight, resulting in a rather curious little shadow playing a game of peek-a-boo upon my doorstep."

Legolas groaned in dismay and hung his head; all his hard work, only to be given away by something as silly as a shadow.

"To be a skilled warrior, you must always be aware of your surroundings…so you can avoid capture…like _this_!"

Legolas screamed as Thranduil grabbed him and plucked him effortlessly off the ground and threw him onto the bed.

"Ada!"

Legolas tried to scold him but soon found himself being pinned down by his father as he went about tickling the life out of the poor struggling elfling. Legolas squealed and desperately tried to wriggle out of his father's grasp but he soon began to tire as he gasped for air.

"A..Ada! Stop!...Enough!"

Thranduil finally took pity on the spent child and allowed him a moment to catch his breath. Legolas lay there panting and gradually his breathing slowed and quieted until he realized he could hear his mother giggling softly beside him.

"Nana, what is so funny?" he asked craning his neck over to see her face.

Elanorel held her hand to her mouth as her body shook with repressed laughter.

"Oh, _ion nîn_…your hair…" she spoke haltingly as she tried to compose herself.

Legolas' hand flew up to feel the top of his head and he finally understood what his mother found so funny. Even lying down he could tell the bulk of his hair, once so precisely groomed, now stood straight up, jutting out every which way. He growled in annoyance as he tried to flatten it out. Without success.

"Here," his mother offered. "Let me do it."

Legolas gave up without a fight and sat up with his back to her. He felt her gentle hands running along his hair as she worked her magic on taming his unruly mane.

"Your hair is getting so long now," she observed with some sadness.

"Aglaron says it is nearly long enough to braid!" Legolas announced excitedly before turning to his father. "Ada, that is when I can start training right? When my hair can be properly braided?" he asked eagerly.

Thranduil felt Elanorel's eyes on him as he met her reluctant gaze. With pleading eyes she shook her head and mouthed a single word to him, strands of Legolas' hair still intertwined in her fingers. Thranduil looked apologetically back at her before turning back to the anxious elfling.

"Yes _ion nîn_, that is the requirement."

Thranduil could hear Elanorel sigh and he could feel her disappointment flow through his heart. He tried to catch her eyes once more but now she had thoroughly engrossed herself in her mission to correct her growing son's hair.

Legolas beamed below her, completely unaware how upset the news made his overprotective mother. Thranduil smiled wistfully. How he envied his son's blissful ignorance.

"There," Elanorel declared, lowering her arms. "Back to normal."

Legolas patted about his head and when he was satisfied he turned to face his mother and wrapped his small arms around her, burying his face into her feathery soft hair.

"_Gi melin Nana_," he cooed hugging her tightly. (Love you Mum)

Thranduil grinned as he saw his wife's heart melt as she held their son closely against her.

"Alright my dear ones," Thranduil chimed in. "I am fairly certain it is beyond a certain elf's bedtime…and I am sure Legolas would like to get some sleep as well."

Thranduil winked at Elanorel and she huffed in annoyance causing Legolas to burst into a fit of laughter at his mother's face. She silenced him with a warning look but he couldn't help snickering as he nestled himself in between two pillows in the centre of the large bed. His mother slipped under the cover beside him to his left and leaned over to kiss him lightly on his forehead.

"_Ollo vae, ion nîn_," his mother whispered. (Sweet dreams my son.)

Legolas yawned as he tried to bid his mother goodnight in kind.

"Goodnight Nana," he mumbled sleepily.

Meanwhile, Thranduil had gone about extinguishing the remaining candles that still burned; and as the smoke from the final candle spread forth from the darkened wick, Legolas felt the bed dip ever so slightly as his father lay down to his right.

"_Ollo vae ion nîn. Gi melin_," Thranduil whispered before also placing a small kiss upon his son's forehead. (Sweet dreams my son. I love you.)

"_Gi melin Ada_," Legolas yawned in reply.

It didn't take long for Legolas' eyes to gloss over as a vacant expression overtook his face.

Elanorel continued to stare mournfully at her precious sleeping child. She couldn't bear to think of him going into battle, fighting, maybe becoming seriously injured…or worse. She ran her hand along his back and snuggled into him at the thought. As long as he was little, she could protect him; she would give her very life to do so.

_Elanorel… _Thranduil mentally called to his wife, not wishing to disturb their sleeping son by speaking aloud.

He watched her eyes lift and finally met him; he could feel her fears as he reached out to grasp her hand in his own, lacing their fingers together. He lay there a moment watching as their hands rose and fell with each steady breath Legolas took.

_He will be fine…_Thranduil continued speaking to her mentally. _He is your son- stubborn as an ox. _He flinched as she glared at him at having been compared to common livestock. _But equally as brave,_ he hurriedly continued. _I would not worry meleth nîn. _

Through his touch she could feel his fae reach out to hers and calm her racing mind and she smiled gratefully at him as she became drawn into his warm glaucous eyes. His peaceful eyes captivated her and she felt herself being pulled to him as she leaned over to him, gently pressing her lips to his. His free hand began to stroke the back of her head lovingly and she could feel him smile against her lips as the two shared a tender kiss above their sleeping elfling.

**xxXXxx**

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><p><strong>I love writing things with Thranduil in it. He's just such a multi-layered, dynamic character I can really have fun with. I'm thinking about writing something where he is the main character but that wouldn't be for a longgggggg time as it stands. <strong>

**Anyway, on to notes…**

**1) I love you! …is a confusing thing to say in Sindarin. I've googled it and come up with a few ways but all are roughly the same with small variances. I have Elanorel refer to Thranduil as 'meleth' since that's the noun so it reminds me how English people seem to refer to their partners as simply Love at times. Well, my grandfather did, so I'm not sure if that's a Newcastle thing, or not. **

**2) Angelically as an adjective. Now, I know there are no angels in ME so technically this description wouldn't exist…but it just makes for such a damn good visualization I had to use it. It's a miniature Legolas…he is the **_**very definition**_** of angelic! ;)**

**3) Peek-a-boo! This game has been around forever and I'm sure everyone has played this at least once. I don't know if they would have had it in ME but I'm saying they do. And also, it's just a fun imagery to play around with. **


	13. Of Conclusions Hastily Wrought

**I do not own anything Tolkien related and I am only borrowing his amazing characters.**

**Another short chapter, but as always with short chapters, I promise to have an update within a few days. It's not an issue of lacking written material, rather the tedious nature of chapter segmenting – specifically my lack of being conscientious about where to place them while writing the rough draft. Yes I know, I should really be more aware of that. I don't promise anything though. ;)**

**Also, happy times! Since my dad lost my ****Silmarillion**** copy, I had to reorder it and I also took the opportunity to purchase the Unfinished Tales and ****The Children of Húrin**** (since I'd get free shipping with Amazon. That's my justification anyway. ;) So that shall add greatly to reference ****material. **

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><p><strong>Chapter 13<strong>

**Of Conclusions Hastily Wrought**

**Present…**

Sleep was still heavily upon her as Caliel slowly felt herself coming out of a deep slumber. Her body felt as though her very bones were comprised of lead and even her eyelids refused to open. She lay there for several minutes as her mind wavered between sleep and wakefulness, all the while having the strange sensation her body were floating about as if in a current.

When she suddenly had the distinct feeling of falling her eyes flew open with a start. The room before her was brightly lit by the sun, now high in the sky.

"It must be well past noon," she observed groggily as she sat up and rubbed her eyes to shake off the last remnants of sleep.

It was only then that she realized her shoulder no longer pained her when she moved it.

She held her left hand close to her face as her eyes travelled critically down along her fingers before stopping at her shoulder. The bruises were also gone and no matter at what angle she twisted and turned her arm, no pain came.

Satisfied her arm was back to normal she then placed her hand upon her ribs and carefully drew a breath, gradually drawing in more and more air until she couldn't anymore. She held it and awaited the sharp stab of pain that normally radiated throughout her ribcage.

But still, no pain came.

She exhaled in more of a sigh as contrary emotions took hold. There was only her leg left to test but it was still bound in a cast and even if it were healed too, she still wouldn't be able to move it much until the thing was removed. Instead, she did the only thing she could think to do as she stared anxiously at the bump under the covers that was her foot. She waited to see if she could move it and, right on command, the duvet began to twitch about as her toes wiggled against it.

She closed her eyes and rested her head in her hand. Still no pain. She felt like she must be crazy. Who actually _hopes_ to feel pain? She laughed bitterly at herself at how ridiculous she was being.

Recovery was a good thing. Legolas had also promised to allow her to stay until she regained her memories and he wouldn't break a promise.

But then again, it was not as though he held the ultimate authority on that. If his father willed it to be that she must leave there probably wouldn't be anything Legolas could do about it. Nor did she want to pit him against his own father on her account.

Still, thinking about that upset her greatly.

Legolas.

That's right! She had forgotten he had promised to stay the night with her, and she quickly looked about the bed for her companion. Sure enough, true to his word, there he lay, his back to her near toward the edge of the large bed.

Caliel was disappointed she couldn't see his face, and now having no restrictions on her movement, she inched her way closer to him to see if he were awake.

"Legolas?" she called softly.

No answer. He must still be asleep.

She tilted her head toward the sound of the ticking clock and was surprised to see that she had guessed right. 12:20 p.m. it read.

"You must have been exhausted…" she said sympathetically as she ran her hand along his back.

"_Nana_…" he mumbled as he began to stir.

'Nana? Who's that? Or _what_ is that?' she wondered as she drew back to avoid being rolled into. She didn't have time to ponder it for very long as she realized Legolas' eyes were wide open. She smiled to greet him but one look into his abnormally vacant eyes and her smile vanished as quickly as it had come and she stared at him unblinking as she wondered frantically what to do. What was wrong with him? Why wasn't he moving anymore? Was he-!?

"Legolas!" she called more urgently as she grabbed onto his shoulders shaking him. "Please wake up! Don't leave me alone!"

_Do not leave me alone, Nana!_

Legolas' eyes widened and all at once they seemed completely normal again as he looked at her intently, his face a mixture of confusion and annoyance.

"What are you doing..?" he demanded, gaping at her as though she had gone mad.

"Legolas!"

She sounded happy – _happy_! What in Arda was _wrong_ with this girl rousing him so suddenly from sleep like that?

"I thought you were dead!" she cried as she embraced him tightly.

"Dead?!" he repeated incredulously. "What in Arda would make you think that!?"

He wriggled himself free from her vice-like grip and held her at arm's length away from himself.

"Y-your eyes!" she exclaimed as though that were the entire answer.

"My eyes..?"

"They were open! You were just lying there looking at nothing, completely out of it!"

Legolas' mouth hung open as his brows laid heavily upon his eyes as he struggled to comprehend her hysterical ranting.

"My eyes were…oh Valar…"

He released her at once and rubbed his forehead in amazement.

"Caliel…" he spoke plaintively regarding her with a vexed expression. "That is how I normally sleep- as do all Elvenkind. Your undo alarm at this hour, though touching I suppose, is unwarranted."

Caliel felt herself grow small under his disapproving leer and found herself wishing she could dive under the blanket for refuge.

"Oh…" was all she could muster as pure embarrassment imploded within.

Legolas exhaled heavily and rubbed his eyes, shaking his head, still unable to fathom the ridiculousness of the situation. It was so incredible in fact, the more he thought on it, the more amusing it seemed to him as he began to softly chuckle.

"Hey!" Caliel cried angrily. "Why are you laughing?! I didn't know elves have weird sleeping habits- how _was_ I to know? I was seriously worried that something had happened to you! Do you have any idea how scared I was that you could have been dead!? Do you even care how it made me feel..?" she began to shake as tears of frustration came to her eyes.

'Don't cry. Don't Cry. Don't cry. Dammit,' she thought cursing herself as the tears began to stream down her face unabridged.

Legolas looked at her in bewilderment.

"Caliel? Please do not cry…forgive me, I was not laughing at you. It is just that I…" but he was at a loss.

It had all seemed like a small misunderstanding to him that he hadn't thought to consider it from her perspective and now he found himself feeling rather guilty for laughing. He reached out to gently rub her back in comfort and at his touch she lifted her head up and stared at him with hurt eyes.

"I thought that something bad happened to you during the night. That maybe that shadow came back to get me but attacked you instead. If you died it would have been all my fault…"

So that's why. Hearing this put her previously unfounded fears into perspective enough for him to empathize with her.

"I am truly sorry. I thought your fears foolish and gave them no further consideration. I should have realized…"

Caliel didn't answer him so he tried going at it another way.

"Were you truly worried for me?" he asked with an overtone of disbelief.

"Yes…"

"Why?" he was no longer unbelieving, but he still couldn't understand.

She faced him with a pained look in her eyes, which were still red with tears.

"Because I…I care about you. I didn't want to lose you…" she couldn't hold his gaze and found herself staring down at the various patterns traced across the duvet.

"Caliel…" his voice held no indication as to what his thoughts might be as she followed the loops and bends of the stitching that accented the cover.

When she didn't look at him he reached out his index finger and touched her chin, tilting her head up to face him.

Hope was instilled in her the moment she did. His face was kindly and his eyes no longer held any trace of judgment. She waited for him to speak but instead felt his strong arms wrap around her reassuringly and pull her toward him. She reciprocated his gesture without hesitation as they sat in silent embrace for several minutes.

Legolas was the first to pull away as he regarded her with a tender smile.

"What will I do with you?" he mused as he stared deeply into her forest-like green eyes.

He made a faint attempt at a grin before placing his hand behind her head and kissing her delicately on the forehead.

It was then the door opened without warning.

The sight before the High Healer was one he never expected to see in all his long years. There in bed was not only his patient but his prince as well!

Together.

It was fairly obvious even to him that he had interrupted something and he didn't want to know why Legolas was kissing Caliel – even if it was only on the forehead. He also could tell that they were equally as surprised by his presence.

"I knocked but there was no reply. The guard informed me you had not left and so…"

Legolas had never seen Nestor look more flustered and hastily tried to explain before he jumped to the wrong conclusion. But all Nestor did was shake his head fervently and turn to leave.

"I just remembered I am needed in the laboratory," he cut in before Legolas could speak. "I must assist in teaching Maeron proper mixing techniques for serums. Perhaps another time my lord."

"Nestor!" Legolas called after the frazzled healer but it was too late as he sat there staring at the door as it closed firmly after his friend.

"Well…this complicates things."

**xxXXxx**

Nestor flew through the hall and down the stairs at such speed he failed to look at what lay before him. It was therefore inevitable when he at last collided with another unsuspecting elf, the force of impact nearly sending both himself and his unfortunate victim sprawling to the floor.

When Nestor's vision came into focus his heart nearly stopped.

"My lord!" he gasped weakly, unable to believe his great misfortune.

Thranduil stood before him rubbing the bridge of his noise with a furious glint in his eyes.

"What in Ilúvatar's name are you doing frittering about like some mindless mithril-crazed dwarf!?" he seethed.

"I-I am terribly sorry my lord. I was not watching where I was going."

"Clearly."

"Are you alright?"

Thranduil huffed and folded his arms across his chest indignantly.

"I am unharmed – more or less. But it is evident something is amiss with you. What has upset you so? Is it that injured ellon?" he questioned with a great deal more annoyance than actual concern.

"Y-yes. No. But yes-"

Thranduil tilted his head up and cast him a sideways glance, his silvery blond hair draping down his shoulders as he did so.

"Do you have any idea how positively mad you sound right now?" he asked flatly. "Get a hold of yourself, _mellon_," he paused as Nestor tried to composed himself. "Now, what has happened?"

Nestor squirmed under his king's penetrating gaze as he found himself in a terribly awkward position. His sworn loyalty was to his king first before all and yet he didn't feel it was his place to go about revealing the private life of his prince either.

Thranduil silently observed Nestor wringing his hands together all the while doing his best to avoid looking directly into his eyes. He became suspicious and decided if Nestor would not willingly tell him what he wanted to know then he would simply have to find out for himself.

Unseen to Nestor, Thranduil's eyes began to change as all colour faded away until they were the palest of grey. They shone with an eerie light as he focused all his concentration upon the unsuspecting healer.

"Where have you just come from?" he questioned methodically.

"From the prince's chambers," Nestor answered with apparent reservation.

Thranduil studied his features sharply, knowing at once he was hiding something. He pressed further into Nestor's consciousness but found the elf was attempting to block him out as his thoughts were shrouded as if in a fog.

Thranduil knew he would have to make Nestor lead him to them.

"Did something he said upset you?" Thranduil pressed, his voice becoming deep and hypnotic.

Nestor shook his head- still avoiding meeting his king's interrogative eyes.

Thranduil could sense he was getting closer to a breakthrough.

"Something…not said…but _done_…_witnessed_…"

Nestor flinched as he became aware his thoughts were being invaded. He could feel Thranduil's own consciousness pressing against his own, trying to extract the information he wanted for himself.

Thranduil smirked as he felt Nestor press back on him trying in vain to resist.

_A valiant effort- but it will do you no good_…he thought to Nestor.

The weakening elf gritted his teeth and slumped forward as the last of his strength gave way to his king's superior mental abilities and at once, all became apparent to the Elvenking.

Nestor heard a deep growl like that of a wild animal emanate from his king and he felt ill. Thranduil's consciousness still lingered upon his own and from that fragment he could sense the shadow of his rage pass into him. The touch of Thranduil's consciousness faded by the second but still Nestor could feel his anger surging throughout his body and at once Nestor became deeply concerned for his young prince.

In fright Nestor faced his king and was taken aback by the wraith-like visage reflected in his eyes.

The moment Thranduil realized the healer elf had glimpsed him the ghostly light behind his eyes faded away leaving the colour to steadily return until they were back to normal. Thranduil locked his now steely eyes on Nestor before storming off wordlessly.

Nestor felt his body give out as he fell to his knees, completely drained both mentally and physically.

"Valar have mercy…" he whispered. "Legolas, forgive me…"

* * *

><p><strong>xxXXxx<strong>

**Isn't it fun when people jump to conclusions? …..not. Although, if I happened to catch my son in bed with someone I might have the same reaction as Nestor. I feel like Nestor thinks of him like a son, considering his only child has passed into the ****Halls of Mandos. **

**I know elf/human pairings aren't forbidden, but considering how rare they are I doubt any elf would be too pleased about their child seeking to pair with a human, considering. Royalty especially I would imagine to be vehemently against it, if not purely on the bases of prolonging bloodlines. **

**Hope you enjoyed! :)**


	14. Of Cold Shoulders & Warm Embraces

**I do not own anything Tolkien related and I am only borrowing his amazing characters.**

**Long chapter this time! :D**

**Thanks to all readers for your interest. I'm honoured that you all are taking time out of your busy days to share in my interest. :)**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 14<strong>

**Of Cold Shoulders and Warm Embraces**

"Will it be alright?"

Caliel sat upright in the bed looking worriedly at the door as if at any moment all of Mirkwood's guards would descend upon her and haul her away for treason.

Legolas hesitated before coming to sit beside her on the edge of the bed.

"I believe so. Once I explain everything to him he will see he has nothing to be concerned about," he reassured her.

'Doesn't he?' Caliel wondered mournfully.

Before she could respond, the door she had been watching flew open, and in rushed a familiar face.

"Legolas – we have a problem," Nestor panted as he rushed to close the door behind him.

Legolas stood quickly, a troubled look making its way across his face.

"Is it Raenion?" he asked with trepidation.

"No, far worse: your father."

"Is he alright?!" Legolas asked in alarm fearing something had happened.

"Yes. _He_ is fine; it is yourself you should be concerned for, and your…_friend_."

Legolas and Caliel exchanged quizzical looks.

"Your father knows," Nestor blurted out suddenly.

Legolas' brows met in the middle as he wondered what this was all about.

"Father knows what?" he asked, his voice calm yet perplexed.

Nestor gaped at him as if the answer were obvious and when his prince said nothing more he looked pointedly toward Caliel.

"He knows…about you two…_sleeping_ together…" Nestor said uneasily. "My prince, that was not at all what I had meant when I told you that I sensed a link between yourselves. I meant as allies - _friends_. Not…_lovers_…" his eyes became downcast as he spoke the final word with great difficulty.

Legolas' eyes widened as he stared in shock at his friend as he realized why Nestor was so unsettled.

"Nestor, I did _sleep_ with her, but I assure you: that was it. I would _never_…she is mortal…and yet a child."

Legolas was at a loss for words, so stunned was he by Nestor's accusation.

Caliel felt her heart sink at his declaration. A mortal…_and_ a child. So much for his proclamation about viewing her as an equal. It was with a heavy heart that she sat silently through the rest of the conversation as though she were not even a part of it.

Nestor looked warily at Legolas as though he weren't sure this to be the complete truth.

"That is what I had believed my lord, and yet I have to question your logic for putting yourself in such a…_scandalous_ position."

Legolas remained silent as he thought on how best to explain himself to his overwrought friend, until finally he looked to Caliel for permission to relate her experience to Nestor.

When she caught him staring at her she understood what he wanted and shrugged; she didn't care if Nestor knew. After all, she was no one of significance- just a mortal child.

"Nestor, Caliel was attacked last night," Legolas revealed seriously.

"What?" Nestor's face contorted in surprise. "Why did I not know of this? By whom was she attacked - and why?"

"We do not know. But Nestor, the thing that attacked her…it seemed to be able to project itself into her dreams, then taking the chance to ambush her upon her awakening."

"What..?" Nestor gasped in disbelief. "What did it look like?"

"A shadow," Caliel cut in, her voice quiet for in her heart she was fearful if it knew she were talking about it that it would somehow summon it back to her. "A black figure darker than the night…"

Nestor listened keenly as a growing horror took hold of him.

"It tried to strangle her," Legolas informed him. "_That_ is why I spent the night with her- to _protect_ her."

"I see…" Nestor placed his hand over his mouth as he paced the room nervously.

Legolas and Caliel watched him as he paced about sporadically until at last he stopped and looked squarely at the pair, his eyes filled with remorse.

"I am very sorry for so hastily rushing to such conclusions. My lord, forgive me- I should have held more faith in your honour and integrity. And my dear, I am dreadfully sorry in advance for whatever problems may arise for you because of my foolish assumptions."

"What problems?" Legolas questioned with a slight edge to his voice.

Nestor grimaced.

"Legolas, your father knows what I have seen. He believes you have…bound yourself to her. Please trust me and know that I did not seek him out. Your business is your own and I do not wish to involve myself in your private affairs. However…" Nestor looked about him and sighed in despair. "I ran into your father, literally I am afraid to say, and he knew something was wrong and he…he read my mind. He saw exactly what I saw – or rather, _thought_ I saw. Legolas, he is furious. I have never felt such profound rage in my life."

Caliel shared in Nestor's fear as she looked to Legolas for guidance.

Legolas rested his hand against his chin – a tell-tale sign something was troubling him, Caliel had come to realize.

"I will discuss it with him later," he said slowly as he mentally weighed the options. "If he truly is that enraged then he is beyond reasoning with. I will wait until this evening before I attempt to approach him then explain that this was merely an unfortunate misunderstanding."

Caliel wondered if that really would be enough as she observed Nestor's dubious face.

"As you wish, my lord. Well, if you are not going to see your father then I presume you have no immediate plans?"

"We have not."

"Then I would ask that you come with me now. Bring Caliel too, I worry for her safety should she remain here alone." Nestor stopped and turned to Caliel. "Your injuries have healed have they not?"

"I think so, but with this cast in the way it's difficult to say for sure."

"Ah, oh course," Nestor nodded and strode over to her and pulled back the cover and withdrew a sharp knife he had concealed somewhere within his large navy robes. Then with the skilled precision of a true master, he sliced through the hard exterior and dismantled the cast in one flawless movement.

Caliel watched in amazement as the cast fell to the floor. She didn't know how, but he had managed to cut just deeply enough to split the material across the top and yet avoid her skin entirely.

Once the cast had left her, she found that her leg felt strangely loose without it, also noticing with concern that her leg looked a little odd compared to its twin.

Nestor noticed her staring at it and understood her apprehension, having explained the same thing many a time before.

"Your muscles have only just recovered and do not posses the same level of strength they once had. It will take time to rebuild the tissue to what it once was. That is why your leg appears slightly smaller than the other. Do not worry; as it grows stronger it will return to normal."

Caliel only nodded as she easily swung her lower body toward the edge of the bed and dangled both legs down the side.

"Good," Nestor observed. "You seem as though you have greater control over your body. Now, you cannot very well go walking about the mountain halls in a nightgown- Legolas, do you have something for her to wear?"

Legolas froze and closed his eyes, running his hand along his head.

"No, I do not unfortunately. I had meant to retrieve something from storage but the thought slipped past me. I have only my own clothes- but you are most welcome to them, Caliel."

"We will make due for now," Nestor insisted. "I will instruct for garments to be fashioned for you later my dear. For now though, if you do not mind putting that matter aside?"

Nestor seemed as though he were in somewhat of a rush and Caliel could feel Legolas' eyes on her. She looked at the healer and nodded.

"Anything is probably more appropriate than this," she said pulling at the semi-transparent material. It had been very comfortable to sleep in, but the thought of strangers seeing her in such a flimsy garment didn't sit right with her. If the other elves were anything like Bogwen and didn't hold too highly an opinion regarding humans then it wouldn't take much for them to dismiss her outright. Especially if she were caught traipsing around in pyjamas.

Legolas went over to the wardrobe and pulled the doors completely open as he stood examining his clothes, deciding what would be most neutral looking for her. At last his hand went out and plucked two hangers off the rod and he closed the doors with his other hand. He turned around to face her and held the clothes up for her approval.

The top was a simply constructed white tunic that on Legolas probably would have reached no further than his waist, while on the other hanger hung a pair of black leggings with what looked like little loops at the bottom.

"That's fine," she consented, though curious as to what those loopy things were for.

"You may change in the bathing chamber if you like," Nestor advised. "It will likely feel a little stiff when first you walk and some minor pain may linger for awhile, but that too will pass. Legolas!" he said looking over his shoulder. "Assist her."

"No, I can do it," Caliel quickly interjected as she saw Legolas begin walking toward her.

"Are you certain my dear?" Nestor asked looked doubtful as he watched her slide herself off the bed and gingerly bear weight on each foot.

Caliel felt the coolness of the floor spread through her feet as she pushed herself up by her hands. She conscientiously placed more weight upon her good leg before slowly shifting more and more to her recently healed one. Nestor had been correct, her leg felt very stiff and at first it seemed as though she were unable to bend it at all. Any attempt at doing so resulted in a prominent pulling sensation accompanied by a dull throb and she winced as the pain escalated as she forced her knee to bend normally.

"Caliel," Legolas called, gently commanded her attention. "This is foolish, there is no need to cause yourself undue stress. Let me help you."

He made to reach for her hand but she pulled it away, instead running it down her leg as if to massage it. Legolas looked questioningly at her and she couldn't help noticing the faint look of hurt in his eyes. It made her feel a pang of guilt but she tried to ignore it; she was still upset with him and needed to talk to him later about what he had said before too much time passed.

"No. I'm alright. I can do it by myself," she told him, a little more coldly than she had meant to.

He regarded her a moment without expression before handing her the garments and stepping aside.

"As you wish…"

She tried to avoid looking at him as she took a few stumbling steps. Her legs felt foreign and wobbled beneath her but the more steps she took the more her left leg loosened and it became progressively easier to move.

When she reached the door she placed her hand on the wall and leaned against it for a brief respite. Once she found her footing again, she shut the door behind her, glimpsing Nestor giving Legolas a peculiar look.

This time Caliel had a comparatively easier time dressing as now both arms moved freely as needed. She dawned the tunic first, only noticing now that the fabric around the neck and shoulders had been embroidered with a silver thread that travelled down just past her chest. The sleeves were exceptionally long and covered her hands entirely, while the top itself ran nearly to her knees.

All she could see was fabric as she held out her arms and flapped them comically at her sides. The length could make it pass for a short dress easily enough but those sleeves- there was no disguising them. It certainly was not how she planned to introduce herself to the other elves that dwelled here and she felt laughable in the obviously too large shirt.

Sighing, she moved onto the leggings and was pleasantly surprised to find that they were not nearly as baggy as the shirt was and that they were actually rather comfortable: for men's clothing, that is.

'Or rather, elf's clothing. Were male elves men? Or was there a fancy term like there was for their women?' she thought mindlessly as she hopped about on her good leg.

She tediously drew the rest of the fabric up her leg all the while trying to keep her left leg as straight as possible to avoid the minor pain that occurred whenever she bent it.

When she had gathered all the fabric up, she finally came upon those odd loops that had caught her eye earlier. She examined the bottom of the legging and realized there was only a small slit in it – not nearly enough for the entire foot to go through.

"How does this work..?" she mumbled to herself as she stared blankly, utterly baffled by the garment.

"Is everything alright?"

Nestor's voice came wafting through the door as Caliel looked back at the leggings in defeat.

Well, Legolas _had_ told her that elves have really good hearing…

"How do you put the leggings on?" she asked feeling rather pathetic.

When Nestor's reply didn't come right away Caliel winced as she thought how simple she must sound.

"The bottom of the legs I mean!" she quickly elaborated. "They don't open properly…"

"Oh –that. That is so they may double as footwear. Oftentimes we elves simply wear those with no boots to allow us to connect better with our environment. It is also beneficial to the body to allow it to move as naturally as possible without interference. You will notice the heel has also been cut out."

Caliel moved the fabric around and saw Nestor was correct; a hole the size of a grape had been cut into the foot part.

"To wear them, simply put your first toe through the loop and it should allow your remaining toes through the slit on the side. Then, pull the hole so it overlaps your heel."

She followed his instructions as he went, leaning against the wall for support. It felt odd to her as she tentatively placed her foot back down to the cool floor. It was warmer than being completely barefoot but the fabric that wrapped around her toe felt horribly out of place.

She attempted to repeat the process with her other foot but found she couldn't bear the weight completely with her knee yet, and so she had little choice but to sit on the floor instead.

Once she was fully dressed she chambered to her feet and examined herself. She wondered how apparent it would be to others that these were male clothes as it seemed horribly obvious to her. The excessive amount of fabric on the leggings (due to Legolas' and her significant height difference) bunched up her shins creating a ripple of bumps up her leg. She frowned at that and leaned over, tugging the fabric down to smooth it out and folded the excess material over on itself. It didn't look perfect, but at least she felt presentable now.

She made her way back through the door and found the two elves waiting for her by the hallway door.

"Not bad," Nestor nodded in approval as he looked her up and down.

Legolas said nothing.

"Now Caliel," Nestor continued as he ushered her out of the room. "We are not going far, but if at any time you require assistance do not hesitate to ask either one of us – is that not so, my lord?"

Legolas nodded but still remained silent.

'Well I was pretty short with him,' she thought with remorse. 'Maybe he's angry with me.'

"Where are we going?" she directed her question at Nestor, not wanting to take the chance of Legolas perhaps ignoring her. Not that she really thought he would, but…

"We are going to my chambers – or they may as well be thought of as such. I am nearly always there."

"Your chambers?"

"Aye, otherwise known commonly as the Healing Halls. Although I cannot fathom why it is called that as it really is more of a building than a hall per se."

"Are we going to see Raenion?" she guessed while following him into the hallway.

Legolas shut the door behind them and fell into step with the pair as the trio made their way down the vast hallway.

"Yes," Nestor said simply, giving no further hint as to the ellon's condition.

"Then he has survived the night?" Legolas queried apprehensively.

"The night: yes."

"But you are still uncertain?"

"I am afraid in this instance I cannot be certain until it is completely over."

As they continued on, Caliel looked all about her in wonder at the beautiful architecture that adorned the hall. Every single object present was carved out of the very stone itself which encompassed the archways, candelabrum, statues of mysterious important looking people, and even a few benches to rest on. The abundance of light made her almost forget she was even underground as it felt comfortable and spacious.

Along with the structure itself, she also caught sight of several elves going about their daily routine. They all wore similar long flowing robes or dresses, except of course the ones that were heavily clad in armour.

As she passed by them they all nodded politely and watched her with curiosity out of the corners of their eyes. At least she felt like they were. Maybe she was just being overly self-conscious since she had been stuck wearing Legolas' hand-me-downs.

Caliel gradually fell behind the two elves as her knee started to get the better of her. They eventually came upon a tall staircase and while the other two effortlessly flowed down the stairs like water, she froze like ice. Her knee already hurt quite a bit and she had a feeling it would hurt a great deal more once she reached the bottom.

Nestor said she should ask for help when she needed it but what could they do? Carry her down?

She shook her head at the thought and went over to the left side of the stairway, placing her left hand along the railing. She angled herself just enough that her right leg took most of her weight, while she leaned heavily on the railing, pushing herself up when she stepped with her left leg.

The banister thankfully didn't give way under the strain as she gingerly made her way down. Most of the weight she had managed to keep off her leg, but it still hurt to bend it so much. It took all of her focus to navigate the stairs and so she didn't notice when the others had already reached the bottom and now stood staring up at her shaking their heads.

"Are humans always this stubborn?" Legolas grumbled to Nestor as he watched Caliel hobbling downward pitifully.

"While we are there I will take another look at her- her leg may have been worse off than I had thought if it is still causing her this much trouble," Nestor said softly.

Legolas growled in irritation.

"_Pe-channas_," he cursed before he leapt back up the stairs after her. (Idiot)

Caliel winced and a small whimper involuntarily escaped from her throat as her leg unexpectedly buckled beneath her.

"This is pathetic…" she mumbled dejectedly.

"Well then we are at least in agreement," Legolas said dryly.

Caliel flinched at his tone and cautiously lifted her head to see him. He stood a few steps below her with arms crossed, staring up at her with a disgruntled face.

He clearly was not impressed with her.

"_Dôl gîn lost_," he hissed and before she knew it, he had pulled her down and hoisted her over his shoulder. (Your head is empty)

His actions had surprised her into submission and she didn't resist.

On his way down Legolas' and Nestor's eyes met. Nestor stood still watching his prince with evident curiosity.

From over Legolas' shoulder Caliel heard as a door opened and they descended yet another long flight of stairs. She watched the ever increasing mountain of steps before her and was immensely glad Legolas was carrying her. There would have been little chance she could have made it by herself. She wanted to thank him, but was reluctant to speak to him.

When they reached the bottom, Legolas bent over and helped her down onto her feet. As she stood for herself Legolas dropped down to his knees in front of her and placed both of his hands firmly around her injured knee.

"Wha..?" Caliel stared down in surprise.

"Your knee is swollen," he said matter-of-factly, but his voice was sharp. "Why did you not ask me for help?"

His question sounded more like a statement as he looked up at her, his face was stern but his eyes revealed the hurt and worry within.

"I'm sorry…" she whispered looking away; she couldn't stand to see that look on his face.

He sighed in exacerbation but stayed put, and she gasped in pain when his hands tightened further around her sore knee.

"Legolas?" Nestor questioned with apprehension, moving closer to the pair.

Legolas shut his eyes and drew a deep breath as he began uttering strange words in a melodic fashion.

Caliel watched in awe as a bluish light materialized and enveloped her knee, twisting and twirling about like a dense mist caught in a breeze. Her skin felt cool and tingled as the light flowed through her skin and into the muscle and bone. Near to her, she could hear Nestor laughing softly.

"And here I thought you claimed limited knowledge of the healing arts. _Impressive_ Legolas; your mother would be proud," Nestor praised with an almost paternal admiration.

'His mother?' she thought, recalling how Legolas had done something similar to light the candles.

The pale blue light slowly began to fade away and Caliel felt as Legolas lowered his hands from her. His eyes remained closed.

"How did you..?" she began cautiously.

"…how does it feel?" he breathed, his voice sounding weary.

"Huh? Fine…it feels fine; more than fine actually. How did you do that?"

"Legolas' mother is-" Nestor began but was cut off before he could finish.

"Enough," Legolas' interrupted firmly. "We have wasted enough time. Nestor, lead the way."

"As you wish…" Nestor looked peculiarly at his prince before continuing on across the bridge.

"T-thank-you," Caliel blurted out as she watched Legolas rise and turn to follow Nestor.

"If you are truly sincere in your gratitude," he began sternly, turning his head over his shoulder to view her. "Then swear to me you will seek assistance _as needed_ in the future. Think long on how your _reckless_ actions could affect others and bring about _needless_ grievances."

"A-alright…I swear it…" she stammered, feeling a little confused.

Sure, trying to walk by herself so soon had, upon reflection, probably been a stupid thing to do. But it hadn't really affected anyone other than herself…had it?

"Very well. Tell me, what of the bridge? Do you feel you are able to traverse it by yourself?" he posed to her skeptically.

She moved her leg back and forth a few times to stretch it out, listening to it crack once but no pain followed. She carefully lowered her foot to the ground, bracing herself as she prepared to take her first step. Each step brought increased confidence as she carried on entirely free from discomfort.

"Well?" Legolas asked when she at last stood beside him.

"It's fine," she announced with hushed awe. "It feels perfectly normal now. You're amazing…"

Legolas laughed overtly at that, finding himself taken a little off guard by her awestruck wonder.

"It really was nothing…" he dismissed bashfully. "So? Can you make it?" he said steering her back to the task at hand.

"I think so. It's just…" she looked uneasily at the rope bridge behind him. "It's secure- right?"

He smirked at her, finding amusement in her uncertainly.

"I should hope so. But, just to err on the side of caution, I propose that you go first. That way, should it collapse, I will be closer to the ledge and escape."

"And what will happen to me?!" she protested in alarm.

He crossed his arms and placed his fingers to his lips as if to carefully consider her dilemma.

"That depends," he said seriously. "How strong a swimmer are you?" he grinned at her wickedly. "I am serious though," his expression gradually changing to match his tone. "You go in front."

Caliel eyed him suspiciously.

"Not to save myself; you have my word – the bridge will not collapse. It is made from the bark of several lebethron trees and is nearly unbreakable once spun."

"Nearly?" she questioned arching a brow.

"Yes, unless deliberately cut. But I assure you, it will not break of its own volition. Do you trust me?"

She sighed in resignation.

"Yes. But why not go ahead of me?"

"Do not take offense, but you have only just begun to walk again today after several days of being bedridden. Though healed, I still question your body's capability to carry itself. Know that if you should lose your balance I will catch and steady you again."

Befuddled by his working, Caliel wasn't sure if she should be offended or touched. To be safe, she opted for the latter of the two.

"Thanks…I think."

With trepidation, she gradually inched her way into the first of many wooden boards that spanned the structure. It swayed slightly with each movement made and she looked back anxiously to check if Legolas followed. He gave her a little nod of encouragement and gestured at her to continue.

Slowly but surely she maneuvered her way across and felt a cautious excitement arise within when she noticed with relief that she was over halfway across. She relaxed a bit and for the first time since setting foot on the bridge she allowed her eyes to wander about the cavern.

It was impossibly vast with the ceiling ascending to over double the height of the average tree with an even larger circumference. It was predominantly shaded, though a moderate amount of light found its way in through several large opening at the top where the rock had succumbed to weathering over time.

To look upward brought her a sense of serenity as everything was still and reassuring. Down below her was another matter entirely.

Little light managed to make its way down into the depths and instead of a quieted peace, the entire subsection was a myriad of commotion as turbulent waters ragged below.

So focused on these rapids was Caliel that she began to feel as if she were apart of them as her body began to sway about to and fro.

"Keep your eyes on what lies in front of you – not below. You are doing well," Legolas encouraged her from behind. "The first time I went across I had to be carried by my mother. I was so afraid I would fall and be swallowed up by the waters below."

Caliel pried her eyes from the hypnotic waves beneath her and tried to keep them fixed on the circular wooden structure before her.

"Was that when you broke your leg?" she asked as she concentrated on walking the last few boards to the other side.

"No, actually, now that you mention it, I find I cannot rightly recall what I was doing here in the first place…it is strange…"

Caliel sighed audibly with relief as at last she stood once again on solid ground. Never had ice cold stone felt so wonderful on her semi-bare feet! She turned around to wait for Legolas, who was himself only 5 or so steps away from her.

He glanced up and noticed she had successfully made it across and stopped to regard her.

"So you made it after all. Well done – I _am_ surprised."

"Humph," she crossed her arms and tried to appear serious but failed.

Legolas remained still, as he looked her over several times.

"What?" she asked feeling suddenly self-conscious. "Does it really look that bad?" she asked pitifully as she tugged at the sides of her leggings.

He shook his head.

"No, in fact I doubt they have ever looked better."

He graced her with a smile so sweet she felt herself flush.

"Although," he continued skeptically. "Your hair on the other hand, leaves something _greatly_ to be desired…"

She scowled at him. So much for being sweet!

"Seriously!?" she cried in dismay as she raised her hands to her head, repeatedly running her fingers through her hair in a sad attempt at combing it.

"Do not fret. It is nothing a good stiff brush could not fix," Legolas said, chucking as he walked over to stand at her side.

Caliel stopped fiddling with her unruly hair and stared up at him anxiously.

"I am only teasing…" he gently informed her as he reached out and patted her head.

Legolas could see she still appeared to doubt him so he lowered his hand and brought it down to hers, looking her in the eyes earnestly.

"You are the most beautiful human I have ever laid eyes on," he said sincerely.

Caliel grinned and laughed softly.

"You really haven't met many humans after all, have you?"

"Perhaps only a few," he admitted slyly, grinning back at her. "But of those 3 you are most assuredly the fairest."

Caliel's shining eyes narrowed and became doubtful as a thought occurred to her.

"…they were all men, weren't they?" she asked pointedly.

Legolas' eyes told her all she needed to know as they twinkled mischievously down at her causing her to roll her eyes.

"I knew it…" she sighed.

"It does not make what I have said any less sincere," he said firmly as his eyes became serious. "Now, shall we?"

Caliel looked down at his still extended hand and finally took it. When he didn't move right away she looked back up at him and found he continued to stare down at her with a peculiar expression. That same feeling she had had on the bridge of swaying about in the wind returned to her and she stood locked in his sights.

Together they ascended the steps, walking hand in hand.

* * *

><p><strong>xxXXxx<strong>

**The idea of elves going barefoot comes from what's called 'natural grounding'. My one friend is really into holistic medicines and things and she introduced the concept to me. Essentially, it theorizes that the Earth is negatively charged and due to the abundance of nerve endings in our feet, there is an electrical interaction between us and the Earth and that the Earth helps balance us (homeostasis). Also there was a documentary about this tribe of incredible runners (I can't remember the name unfortunately) and they ran barefoot because it was more efficient and they said how it allows the body to move naturally with less pressure points etc. Elves are in tune with these types of things it seems, hence the inclusion of these concepts into their practices. :)**

**Lebethron is the wood that was used to house the crown of Gondor and also used for walking staves for Frodo and Sam; so based on that it should be strong. I wanted to use an actually ME tree and avoid making one up. I thought about using ****mallorn trees but since rope comes from the inner bark, the outer bark would first have to be scraped away and I definitely can't see ANYONE doing that to the sacred mellyrn. ;)**


	15. Of Good Intentions Gone Awry

**I do not own anything Tolkien related and I am only borrowing his amazing characters.**

**Questions, questions, questions! I know I have tones of unanswered questions hahaha! A few will be explained in the coming chapters though I promise. But I'm afraid this one will probably only add to the load… ;)**

**Also, the gap is narrowing between my written work and my published work so from now on I will be doing weekly chapter updates, most likely Friday night or sometime Saturday depending on what time zone you're in. **

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 15<strong>

**Of Good Intentions Gone Awry**

Nestor looked out expectantly at them as Legolas pushed past the thin curtain covering the entrance.

"It is about time," he grumbled impatiently.

Nestor came over to them, his forehead wrinkling ever so slightly as he caught sight of their clasped hangs. He evidently chose to ignore it as he resumed his pretext.

"I was beginning to think you had gotten yourselves lost. What kept you?"

"Caliel was unsure of the bridge. I did not wish to rush her," Legolas replied matter-of-factly.

"Oh," Nestor said, glancing down at Caliel briefly. "No matter then. You are here now – come!"

Nestor walked with haste over to a door in the left wing of the building and stopped just outside of it.

"I thought you would be eager to know of his fate so I brought you here to see for yourself," he said vaguely, his eyes glinting tellingly.

"Raenion's in there?" Caliel asked dumbly as she became filled with uncertainty.

"Of course - his parents also. They did not leave for a moment all night. Although, I believe they may be able to relax in the near future," he added optimistically.

"You mean he is recovering?" Legolas asked eagerly.

Nestor smiled at the relief his words had brought to his prince's eyes.

"It is still too soon to say for certain…but I believe so," he finished with conviction.

"Thank the Valar!" Legolas exclaimed as he embraced his friend.

Caliel had to suppress a giggle as she caught sight of Nestor's surprised expression. To say he had not been expecting that would have been an understatement.

"Uh…yes, yes. I am pleased this news brings joy to your heart. Now, if you will..?" Nestor stuttered uncomfortably.

At his request, Legolas released him- much to Nestor's considerable relief.

"His parents are expecting us. Bogwen has not returned," he added lowly with underlying disapproval.

"Really…" Legolas marveled as he followed his friend toward the door.

Caliel however lagged behind and remained standing in place.

Legolas looked over at her, giving her a questioning look, but she only shook her head.

"What is it?" he asked her as Nestor stopped and awaited them.

"Please continue without us," Legolas instructed the healer. "We will be along momentarily."

Nestor looked at them each in turn before nodding to Legolas and heading inside.

"Caliel?" Legolas asked as he came nearer to her.

"It is really alright?" she questioned. "Me going in there?"

He didn't understand her reluctance as he regarded her with a confused look.

"Of course. Why would it not be?"

"Well, his parents are in there right?" she replied, glancing warily at the door behind him. "What if…what if they don't want me there? What if it upsets them?"

"You are frightened they will be angry with you like Bogwen?"

She hesitated and tried to quickly think of a better way of phrasing her concerns, but couldn't and sighed.

"…yes," she conceded.

"You need not fear that," he said kindly. "I regret that Bogwen was your first experience with another elf aside from Nestor and myself… but Lassendaer and Naruves are absolutely nothing like Bogwen- they are kind, loving people."

"To other elves maybe," she mumbled as she began playing with the hem of her long shirt.

Legolas watched for a second before reaching out and stilling her hand with his. At his touch she glanced up at him unable to conceal the worry behind her eyes.

"To _all_ people," he assured her. "Besides, I have already spoken to them on the matter."

"You have?"

"Yes. I…" his voice wavered and his demenour changed suddenly. "I was truly unprepared for the depth of compassion and understanding Naruves and her husband possess. I fear I am unworthy of it…"

Legolas' eyes fell and he stood silent in reflection.

"You?" she questioned seeing the pain in his eyes. "You don't blame yourself – do you?"

Her query was met with a sigh.

"I did…but Naruves believes what happened was unavoidable and could not have been predicted. I do not know that I am in complete agreement with that, but I am starting to come to the realization that I was not solely to blame. If Raenion were truly unprepared to fight then he would not have been allowed to depart. But the fact that he was, means he would have been sufficiently skilled in combat."

"Are you trying to convince _me_ of this..?" she asked tentatively. "Or _yourself_?"

At her question, Legolas fixed his blue eyes squarely on hers.

"Legolas," she continued gently. "You don't need to convince me of your innocence; it never occurred to me to blame you – not even for a moment. You don't blame _me_ for what happened, so how can I blame _you_?"

"I…" but he was at a loss for words. "That is different – you are not from here."

Caliel gently covered his hand with her free hand, patiently waiting for him to look at her again.

"Now…are you going to believe me? Or do I have to lock myself up for a month to convince you?" she said jokingly, a tiny smile gracing her lips.

Legolas laughed half-heartedly at that.

"No, I can see your logic," he admitted reluctantly. "And it was not a month," he corrected. "It was only a day that Father spent with Nestor."

"Well, whatever," she said, waving it off as she began walking toward the door with him at her side.

She stopped in front of the door to Raenion's room and looked earnestly into Legolas' eyes and grasp his hand firmly in hers.

"But honestly," she continued. "Stop blaming yourself – alright? I care about you and it bothers me to see you in pain like this…"

Legolas was stunned by her admission and she quickly averted her gaze in embarrassment. His mouth hung open slightly as he felt an uncontrollable grin tugging at his lips.

When Caliel worked up the nerve to face him again she found he was still staring at her in shock, but his expression was gentle and almost reverential.

"Thank-you…" he breathed. "You have no idea what that means to me."

Caliel tried to smile back at him but felt a little shy under his lingering gaze.

"So you will come with me? Inside?" he questioned with faint apprehension, holding onto her hand as though he still half expected her to try and make a run for it.

"Yes. I'm still nervous, mind you. But I trust you."

"Caliel," he began seriously. "If they are only able to perceive but a half of the person you are they would still undoubtedly be enchanted by you."

She laughed and shook her head, vaguely aware of the redness creeping into her face.

"I don't know about that…" she mumbled, trying to conceal her face as best she could. "But I guess we should find out?"

She looked over at the door and Legolas' hand went for the handle on cue. He looked at her a final time, seeking permission to proceed, to which she nodded. As he pressed downward, she heard the latch click open granting them access within.

**xxXXxxx**

The room was smaller than she had anticipated, with Raenion's bed taking up much of the limited space. Aside from him, only 3 other elves were present. There was Nestor of course, but the other 2 were unknown and she assumed them to be Raenion's parents. It was odd though, for some reason her mind found it difficult to comprehend that these elves, who looked only slightly older than Raenion himself (and could easily pass for his siblings), where actually his parents.

'This is going to take some getting used to,' she realized.

"Glad to have you join us again, my lord," the male elf said genially as he gripped Legolas' hand firmly.

"Lassendaer," Legolas nodded in acknowledgment. "I thank you for allowing me the honour to be present amongst your family at this grave time."

"Ah, the honour is truly bestowed upon us," he smiled shyly at his prince as his grip began to lax.

"Lady Naruves," Legolas kindly greeted the elleth in turn as he placed his hand across his chest, bowing slightly to her.

"You are far too kind to bow to someone like me," she laughed softly as she arose to embrace him.

'He seems so at ease…' Caliel observed with awe.

Only a minute ago he was so uncertain, seemingly very much still within the throws of guilt. Was this an act?

'I suppose acting would be part of observing customs in ones culture,' she continued to speculate.

But it disheartened her. To change moods so quickly – was it genuine?

'This is ridiculous!' she thought, scolding herself. 'Why am I thinking like this? I said I trusted him and I do!'

But her mind kept wandering back to when he had professed his friendship and how earnest he had seemed then as well, only to all but recant it when Nestor had pressed him.

"And who is this young lady?"

Caliel tilted her head up in the direction of Naruves' voice as she realized she was being spoken to.

"This is Caliel," Legolas announced, introducing her. "A friend of mine."

"Hello," Caliel said, nodding shyly to each in turn.

"Oh, are you the human that was found out in the Wood a few days ago?"

Lassendaer had been the one to speak but his tone was neutral and from it Caliel couldn't gage how he was feeling or whether he were angry or not.

"Yes, I guess I would be."

"How are you faring? I heard tell that your injuries were rather severe."

With Raenion's body literally at her feet it felt strange to be asked about her own health. Compared to him, she was the embodiment of vitality. Given the circumstances, there was only one answer she could arrive at.

"I'm fine now – thanks to Nestor of course."

"He is something, is he not?" Naruves said, looking over at the dark haired healer, smiling appreciatively.

Nestor tried to appear as if he had not heard the compliment and continued tending to his medical equipment.

"Not one to accept praise though," Lassendaer quipped, loudly enough to ensure the bashful healer had indeed heard.

Nestor raised a brow and returned his attention to the strange glass flask before him.

"I have done nothing worthy of such praise," he said dryly. "Once Raenion has regained consciousness and married to his betrothed I would be more than gracious to accept whatever praise you wish to inflict upon me. But only then."

"That should be near any day by now," Naruves' voice was light and hopeful. "Really Nestor, accept our thanks now! Just look how much better he is! The greyness is gone from his skin and even his eyes seem less cloudy and brighter," she grinned as she swept her son's hair back. "I dare say I half expect him to awaken at any moment and ask where breakfast is. He is always hungry it seems…even as an elfling," she laughed and shook her head at the thought.

Caliel smiled slightly as she tried to picture Raenion as a little elf; he looked so young as it was that it wasn't hard for her.

Now Legolas on the other hand…

Her eyes travelled from Raenion to Legolas, who stood just over to her left. With him, she found it much more difficult to envision him as a child, small, wide-eyed with pointy ears and all.

She nearly giggled at the adorable imagery her mind had come up with and she had to quickly look away when she noticed Legolas' head turn toward her. She tensed as she could feel his eyes on her, only relaxing when she heard him resume his conversation with Raenion's father.

She had decided she would try to be brave and speak with Naruves herself but as she took a step toward the elleth she jumped when the door behind her suddenly opened without warning. She had to take a step back as a very tall, very imposing elf came in from the foyer, being closely followed by another heavily armoured elf and a considerably shorter female elf.

Caliel came to stand closer to Legolas as she recognized the elleth to be none other than Bogwen herself.

She _had_ decided to return after all – and with a small army no less!

Caliel turned her head toward Legolas to question him but his expression was just as perplexed as hers.

The entire room apparently shared in this sense as all stared in stunned silence at the 3 elves before them.

"My lord..?" Nestor's voice was official but held an air of trepidation as he crossed the room to stand before the fierce looking elf.

'My lord?' Caliel repeated in her head as her attention was drawn to the imposingly tall elf in the centre.

Caliel felt weak in his presence as he loomed over her, his stature perfectly mirroring the mountain in which he presided over. From his cheekbones to his chin, his entire face appeared to have been carved out of stone as he stared sternly at the room's inhabitants – carefully examining each one in turn.

As his steely greyish eyes fell upon her, she felt a chill run down her spine. His face was so similar to Legolas' and yet as much as it resembled his, at the same time it looked so vastly different. Whereas Legolas' eyes were a gentle, mischievous blue, this elf's were hard and cold as if haunted by shadows of years long past.

Legolas' hair was a light blond that seemed to capture and hold the sunlight within each strand, but this other elf's was considerably paler and almost silvery in tone. It neither captured nor reflected light, but seemed oddly enough to remain entirely untouched by it as it draped down his back past his waist.

His heavy robe only added to his intimidating appearance as the dark crimson fabric sat high atop his neck and fell down to the floor, trailing behind him regally.

On his brow twisted a crown of entwined vines adorned with numerous red leaves- the execution of which was perfectly befitting of its master's cutting personality.

Finally, in his right hand Caliel noticed he held a large staff hewn from oak, the height of which exceeded her very own.

His eyes seemed to linger on her longer than any other and she was immensely relieved when he at last moved on from her. She felt as if she had been released from a trance as her heart inextricably thudded about in her chest.

This was Thranduil? This was the Elvenking? That meant that he was also Legolas'…

"Father? Why are you here?" Legolas asked cautiously as his eyes passed Thranduil and noticed Bogwen trailing in his wake. "And why is _she_ with you?" he asked emphatically, tilting his head toward the unwelcome elleth.

"Now what sort of greeting is that for your dear father?"

Caliel felt her stomach sink at the apathetic tone he awarded his son. How could he be so cold toward Legolas? Was he normally like that? Caliel's chest tightened at the thought.

Legolas did not answer him and continued to stare at Bogwen disdainfully.

"She has every right to be here if she wishes," Thranduil said flatly. "The ellon is, after all, her promised husband."

"Then where was she all night I wonder?" Legolas demanded. "When her _professed love_ was in such a precarious state?"

"She was with me, if you must know."

Everyone stared blankly at the Elvenking, uncertain what was happening. Legolas' eyes remained fixed on his father, but Lassendaer and Naruves gradually began to behold Bogwen with a growing unease.

"What is going on daughter?" Naruves questioned Bogwen, her voice unnaturally high pitched as fear began to creep over her.

Bogwen looked unsettled as she took sanctuary in the shadow of the king.

"I shall tell you," Thranduil spoke calmly as he approached Raenion's bewildered parents.

But instead of speaking to them, he addressed Nestor.

"Nestor, as of this instant your treatment of Raenion is to cease."

"What!?" Raenion's parents gasped in unison, utterly blindsided by their king's outrageous command.

Naruves fell to her chair and covered her face with her hands while Lassendaer, without thinking, took a step toward Thranduil.

The armour clad guard at Thranduil's side stepped forward to meet Lassendaer's challenge at once as Lassendaer froze and looked at his king in dismay.

"But…I do not understand..?" he stammered, his fists quivering with adrenaline.

"There is little for you _to_ understand," Thranduil gruffly answered him, raising a brown at Lassendaer's lack of self-restraint.

"Then why!?" Naruves implored, staring hard at her king with angry tears in her eyes. "He is doing _remarkably_ well! Nestor says that at this rate his recovery is immanent – why then jeopardize it like this!?"

"She is right," Legolas cut in. Naruves had every right to feel as strongly as she did but Legolas' feared for her if she continued on in that tone with his father. "What is the meaning of this?" he softly beseeched him.

Thranduil only regarded him with passing interest as he walked away from him toward Nestor.

"Nestor, I believe I gave you an order."

'He sounds bored!' Caliel realized in disbelief. 'Like this whole situation is nothing more than a nuisance for him!'

"Why won't you answer him!?" she railed at Thranduil before she could think.

He stiffened on the spot and slowly turned his head toward her, his expression disquiet.

Caliel took another step back and began to shake, immediately regretting her impulsive outburst.

Legolas stood to block his father's path, extending his arm as if to shield her from his wrath.

Much to the abject shock of all, Thranduil suddenly began to laugh. It wasn't a genuine laugh, but a shrew, mirthless one.

"Oh my poor son…how naïve you are…" he mused, chuckling.

"What are you talking about?" Legolas demanded, his normally warm eyes unusually cold.

Thranduil smiled heartlessly.

"We will discuss this soon enough, my son. But for now I would like to return to the matter at hand - Nestor! Why do you continue to delay?"

Nestor stood beside Raenion, his face reflecting the great strain he was now under.

"My lord…I cannot obey…" he weakly informed his impatient lord.

"What do you mean?" Thranduil growled at him, lowering his head.

Nestor shook his head and rubbed his hand along his face, bracing himself for what would surely be an unpleasant experience.

"I cannot in good conscience obey. To do so would put his life at risk and I _cannot_ do it. I am sorry – I _will not_ do it."

"Are you telling me you refuse to carry out my express command?"

Between the halting calm of each spoken word a quiet fury began raging. Nestor could see it in his king's eyes like a smoldering fire as he exhaled sadly.

"…I suppose I am."

Legolas saw his father straighten and tilted his head at the guard near the entrance.

"Wait!" Legolas cried, stepping between his father and his friend.

Thranduil glared at his son with moderate annoyance but said nothing as he waited for Legolas to act, watching as he turned toward his friend eagerly.

"You cannot do this," he spoke hurriedly. "My father intends to stop Raenion's treatment regardless of your will to participate. If you refuse his order he will have you thrown into confinement."

"Then what would you have me do Legolas!?" Nestor countered desperately. "I cannot carry out an order that would knowingly bring harm to a patient!"

Legolas stared at his friend anxiously, silently pleading with him to reconsider.

"I am sorry…I cannot," Nestor repeated in a whisper.

"But if you are locked up then who will remain to tend to Raenion?"

"My apprentices are well versed-"

"-Are they up to your skill level?" Legolas asked firmly and Nestor faltered. "Are they!?"

"…no," Nestor said, hanging his head in defeat.

"Then he will need your abilities," Legolas insisted, firmly gripping both the healer's shoulders resolutely.

"Legolas," Nestor began, his face full of pain and indecision. "Are you asking me to stop Raenion's treatment?"

Legolas could tell how much this was hurting his friend and it cut at him to have to be the one to convince him to do such a thing that was so completely against his will.

"Yes," he answered him remorsefully.

Nestor recoiled as if physically struck and an indistinguishable noise caught in his throat.

"…fine, I will do it…"

All emotion had drained from Nestor rendering him completely numb.

"No!" Naruves cried as she grabbed at his robe. "_Please do not do this!_" her hand shook and her reddened eyes were wide with terror as she made her last desperate appeal to the broken healer.

Nestor's face was in likeness of stone as he carefully removed her hand from his person and forced himself to look away to begin the horrendous task of halting treatment.

"Why..?" Caliel's voice came as a whisper as she tried one final time to get an answer out of the cold hearted Elvenking.

All this pain he was causing to everyone: Raenion, his parents, Nestor, and even his own son! She was going to get an answer out of him even if he ended up throwing _her_ back into a cell.

"If you want to know why - ask Bogwen." Thranduil said simply without looking at her.

Caliel wasn't expecting him to actually answer and was taken aback by how cool his voice sounded, as if he were entirely immune to the woe of all around him.

"What?" Lassendaer asked, looking up at his future daughter in contention. "What is he talking about Bogwen?"

"I..." she was close to tears herself as she peered out at everyone from just outside the room.

"Last night Bogwen came to me and plead her case to end Raenion's treatment," Thranduil informed everyone without emotion. "She believed Raenion strong enough to fight the infection himself and that to interfere was detrimental to his health. She presented her case well and I believed her argument to be sound and have thus overturned Raenion's family's earlier decision regarding treatment."

The anger Lassendaer had been unable to unleash upon Thranduil increased a thousand fold as it now acquired a new target upon Bogwen. He bolted from his grieving wife and strode over menacingly toward his son's betrothed.

"I only meant to help him!" she shrieked in fear. "Nestor's treatment was killing him! He was screaming in agony but unable to speak or move!"

Caliel listened to the frightened elleth's words with intrigue. How could she possibly know that?

Lassendaer also was caught off guard by her words as he stared uncomprehending at the now cowering elleth.

"How can you know this..?" his voice deathly cold as he glared at her.

"I…we…"

Caliel jumped in surprise as Lassendaer struck Bogwen harshly across the face, causing her to cry out and fall to her knees.

"You…" he seethed, glowering down at her, his hand still raised as if to strike her a second time. "You dare disgrace my son only to turn around and _stab him in the back_!?"

"Lassendaer!" Naruves screamed at her husband in horror as he readied to strike Bogwen again.

But Thranduil moved faster and caught Lassendaer's arm by his wrist, stopping it in midair.

"I think we have had quite enough of this," he said casually as he tossed Lassendaer's arm to the side, letting go.

Lassendaer cast Bogwen a final threatening look before storming past her and out of the building.

"Lassendaer!" Naruves called after him in vain.

She looked from the door to her son several times before finally taking off running after her husband.

Caliel couldn't believe her eyes. Had all this really just happened? Only minutes ago everyone had been smiling and laughing – comforted in the belief of Raenion's imminent recovery. How had everything gone so wrong so fast?

She had no idea, as Thranduil once again set his sights on her, just how much worse it was about to get.

"_You_," Thranduil said, addressing her severely.

"Father!" Legolas cried with apparent alarm.

"…and _you_," he said glancing at his son out of the corner of his eye. "The two of you are to come with me – now."

"Why?" Legolas dared to question, earning him an annoyed glare from his father.

"Because I am your king and command it. _With me_!" he ordered, turning his back on them.

Caliel looked up at Legolas for help but he only shrugged, throwing his hands out to his sides, powerless to contest his father's order.

"We have little choice," Legolas gravely informed her. "Do not worry- no harm will come to you."

But after all she had bared witness to today she wasn't so sure.

Thranduil was already outside the building as they headed out of the room with Bogwen still sitting on the floor, now weeping in her hands.

Caliel stared after her as they began to cross the suspension bridge one by one. Even after all the trouble she had caused, Caliel still couldn't help feel a sting of pity for the poor elleth. There was no way she could have foreseen any of this. All she had wanted was to help the one she loved. Now she could very well be his downfall.

"Caliel," Legolas gently called to her.

"Huh?"

She turned around to see not only Legolas, but Thranduil too, staring at her darkly from the other side, his eyes appearing ghoulish in the subdued lighting. Thranduil's eyes fascinated yet terrified her and she couldn't take her eyes off them.

_Imprint this tragedy upon your memories…_

"What..?" Caliel shook her head to clear her thoughts and looked down at Legolas questioningly. "Sorry, what did you say?"

He looked at her oddly.

"I have said nothing – only your name."

"Yes you did," she insisted. "Something about imprinting this on my memories..?"

"It was not I…but I have a suspicion…" he said glancing back toward his father.

"Your father? What..?"

Legolas nodded but didn't elaborate, leaving her to draw her own grim conclusions.

"I thought Nestor was exaggerating earlier! Please tell me he cannot read minds…"

"Very well – I will not," Legolas replied dryly.

Caliel looked worriedly back at the Elvenking feeling a strange sensation overtake her.

_Do not interfere where you are unwelcome…_

So that was his voice she was hearing in her mind?

She shivered as she watched him turn about swiftly causing his exaggerated robe to billow out behind him.

In front of her, Legolas watched keenly as her expression shifted about to words unspoken and unheard by him. When he noticed his father leaving he took that to be the finality of their voiceless conversation. Carefully he approached her so as to not startle her, having himself experienced the odd sensation of being disassociated from reality.

"What did he say?" he asked her softly.

_You will be his undoing…_

"…nothing…" she answered automatically, not wishing to discuss any of it.

It was obvious Legolas didn't believe her, but she tried not to let it affect her right now; she already had plenty to mull over as they marched wordlessly after the mysterious and dangerous Elvenking.

**xxXXxx**

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><p><strong>Ugh…that was painful to write…especially having the Hannibal soundtrack playing in the background lol. Such tension! <strong>

**Please don't hate Thranduil! The next chapter may explain away some of his…**_**peculiar**_** behaviour and his thought process. **

**So I'm actually in disagreement with Caliel regarding Legolas' sudden change in temperament upon greeting Raenion's family. I wouldn't have put much thought into his behaviour and kind of think she's over-reacting a bit. I can understand why I guess. But I also know why Legolas is acting a bit strange and she doesn't. And I think Caliel's own feelings toward him are clouding her perception. It's just one of those instances where the story is leading me to write a scene differently than I had intended. Although I've never disagreed with my protagonist to this extent before so it felt weird to write. Does that happen? Is that normal? Hahahaha!**

**Also, I can't remember if I added this before or not but felt it was worth mentioning. When Lassendaer refers to Bogwen as his daughter, it's a shortened version of daughter-in-law. I think it was the Walton's or some show like that where the parents of the husband referred to his wife as that versus daughter-in-law or simply her name. I kind of like how 'Daughter' sounds as it's more informal and folksy and considering elves are immortal and they marry for life I think the formality would be lost over time anyway. **

**Hope you enjoyed! **


	16. Of Descending Pandemonium

**I do not own anything Tolkien related and I am only borrowing his amazing characters.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 16<strong>

**Of Descending Pandemonium **

Caliel blindly followed the Elvenking and Legolas as she was lead over countless stairs and long winding passages. She hadn't the faintest idea where they were and was careful not to become too distanced from them as she would most certainly become lost in this stone maze by herself.

Though he did not speak to her outright, Legolas occasionally checked behind him to ensure she was still there and in one piece. Caliel was certain he had deliberately placed himself between her and his father to act as a buffer, otherwise, why not simply walk behind her? He wouldn't have to keep straining his neck around all the time then.

She was thankful to him for this though, because for some strange reason, whether it was predominantly due to his incredible age or his fierce, commanding presence, she felt uneasy being too close to Thranduil. Whenever he drew near her skin would chill and prickle and her stomach would drop. Legolas shielded her from his father enough to assuage these affects to only a dull headache, but she couldn't help wondering if the pain in her head was some kind of aftereffect from having her mind invaded.

It gave her a creepy feeling to think that Thranduil could peruse about her personal thoughts at will, without any regard to her privacy. Where else could one feel free to think and feel as they wanted except their own mind? Now that wasn't even sacred. Thinking about everything she had imagined in the dark recesses of her mind being open for display to him like a library sickened her.

Ahead of her the stone faced guard that followed at the king's side pushed open a thick oaken door and stood aside to allow Thranduil to pass and remained there as Legolas and Caliel followed suit.

As the door was firmly closed after her, Caliel stared at the sealed exit with apprehension.

The guard wasn't coming. What could that mean?

They were outside now and under different circumstances she would have found the view absolutely breathtaking. The sky was a brilliant blue, vast and endless with only a few stray clouds scattered about as it stretched far above her out overtop the incredible landscape below. Dampness hung in the air and on the patio she could see small areas of darkened stone where water had pooled- presumably from a recent storm.

The Wood itself was an entirely different wonder to behold. On first glance, she saw only a deep forest green that seemed to stretch for countless miles, but upon closer examination she saw that wasn't entirely correct. Intermittently dispersed were leaves of all colours ranging from fiery reds to vibrant yellows and oranges.

Many leaves had already fallen she realized as she heard a few crunch under her feet as she walked. The feeling of coarse, shriveled leaves on her semi-bare feet felt peculiar as the pointy ends jabbed at her soles uncomfortably. The stone she walked on was bitterly cold and the wind that blew about them failed to add any warmth. She was glad to have long sleeved clothing on but wished the fabric had been a bit thicker as she felt the chilly wind pass easily through to her skin.

What were they doing out here like this? At first she had thought this could be where Thranduil planned on leaving her, but she couldn't see any stairs and they were considerably high up; not even the enormous tress below had any hope of coming close to where they stood.

But if he wasn't sending her away just yet then why bring her all the way up here? She noticed uneasily that they were completely alone – the only movement coming from the deadened leaves that blew about mindlessly. Coincidently, the leaves were also the only things emitting any sound; the entire forest was eerily silent as if it were holding its breath. Not even a single bird sang.

'Maybe they've already migrated…' she thought hopefully, wanting to explain away the strange feeling the observation had sparked within her.

"A beautiful sight to behold…or rather, it once was…" Thranduil spoke suddenly, his deep voice heavily laden with the kind of melancholy held only by those that had tasted true misery.

Caliel looked to see if he were speaking to her but he had already started walking away. She watched him intently, thousands of questions on her mind yet none she dared ask. He frightened her yes, but it was more than that; it was as if the very air that surrounded him were thick and stale as though it were no longer capable of sustaining life. His presence was suffocating, and she had no desire to be any where near him.

It was only through sheer outrage at the maltreatment of his son that she had found her voice once, but out here on this balcony overlooking an endless sea of trees, she felt small and insignificant as all imagined courage evaporated.

Caliel watched as Thranduil made his way over to a small pavilion-like structure that lay at the end of the path against the mountain wall. It offered little shelter from the elements and appeared to stand merely as a formality, lending to the illusion of privacy. Tall white pillars carved in likeness of tree boughs stretched upward intertwining with one another as they came together at the top, creating an artificial canopy above. The sunlight streaked through the gaps formed between every small carved branch and on the floor Caliel was amazed to find the architecture so expertly crafted that a silhouette of leaves could quite clearly be seen created by the resulting shadows.

"Come – sit," Thranduil commanded as he beckoned toward her.

She noticed Legolas had already taken a seat across from his father under the pavilion; both their expressions were serious, and she felt a terrible sinking feeling in her stomach as she took the only other available chair beside Legolas.

A small rounded stone table was the only thing standing between her and the intimidating Elvenking and already she could feel her mind clouding over as her lungs became heavy and numb.

"I think it is time you and I are properly introduced. I regret I have not yet had the pleasure of making your acquaintance," Thranduil said breezily, his eyes cold and calculating, unbefitting of the seemingly pleasant greeting. "I am Thranduil, otherwise known as Elvenking of this realm."

"I - it is an honour to make your acquaintance your highness…" Caliel stuttered awkwardly, wondering if she should courtesy or something.

"You are not a subject here, but a guest, and thus have no need to refer to me in such terms. You need not stand on ceremony and I would prefer it if you spoke as you normally would. There is much I desire to discuss with you and I believe this way is simplest for you."

"I…see. I will do as you ask then…"

Regardless of his insistence, it still gave her pause to speak so informally to someone who was not only thousands of years old but royalty too no less.

"I am Caliel, or at least, that's my name now. It's nice to meet you finally," she lied. "Legolas has mentioned you to me before and I wondered what you were like…"

'Take a breath. Don't ramble,' she reminded herself.

But despite her own advice, she found it difficult all the same. As strange as it was, the sound of her own voice comforted her and was preferential to Thranduil's silent supercilious gaze.

"And now that you have met me for yourself, what is your conclusion?" he asked calmly, taking no notice of her frazzled demenour.

Caliel's breath caught in her throat. She definitely had witnessed plenty during their brief encounter to form her own opinions about him, but she was unwilling to share them. If he knew what she really thought about him it would make for one exceedingly awkward conversation.

But would he know if she were lying? He could just read her mind and then he'd know everything…

"I…don't know _what_ to think," she guardedly admitted.

This was partly true; after all, in Legolas' story with Nestor, Thranduil had seemed like a deeply considerate elf that would go to any lengths to help those he cared for most. But this version of Thranduil was drastically different…Legolas had summed it up perfectly, she realized, when he had said that the Thranduil of past and the Thranduil of present were entirely different people.

Watching the human girl wriggle under his veiled interrogation brought a small grin to the Elvenking's face. How easily he could break her…if he so desired.

"Is that so..?" he asked sounding unconvinced. "You seem terribly nervous… Tell me, what is the reason for your fear?"

"Perhaps she is in shock given what you have done to Raenion," Legolas answered before Caliel could respond, as he glared at his father with unbarred anger.

"Legolas," Thranduil began, stiffening in frustration, clearly wishing to lay the matter to rest once and for all. "My actions regarding the ellon were the result of new information only recently brought to light the evening prior. Upon learning what I did, it was the only possibly action I could take."

"And just what was that information?" Legolas objected suspiciously. "Let me guess: it was something Bogwen claimed?"

"If you must know – yes, it was."

"Father, she _cannot_ be trusted. Her grief has blinded her to the point of madness. What could she have _possibly_ said to cause you to endanger Raenion's life in this way!?"

Frustration had taken hold and Legolas took to his feet, standing impatiently awaiting his father's answer.

Thranduil eyed him impassively and sighed.

"Bogwen is not Raenion's _betrothed_, but his _wife_; thus granting her express authority over matters relating to his well being, should he be unable to act for himself."

The fire burning behind Legolas' eyes suddenly vanished as though he had been dowsed with cold water.

"What..?" he asked in disbelief.

"Yes…it would seem Bogwen and her lover feared his parents would not approve the match and thus they elected to take matters into their own hands – unnecessarily so, I might add, but it no longer matters."

Legolas stood still as he slowly processed what his father had revealed to him before taking his seat, allowing his father to continue.

"What does matter is the fact that given her elevated status, Raenion's parents lost their privilege to make decisions on his behalf. As his wife, Bogwen holds the ultimate authority to conduct his affairs as she wills it and she felt the treatment was too strenuous for Raenion and so that is why she elected to cease all treatment."

"And you agree with her?"

"What I think holds little relevance. The choice was Bogwen's and hers alone – and she has made her decision."

"Tch," Legolas grumbled, forcibly turning away shaking his head in disgust.

"If that satisfies you my son, may we kindly get back to the issue in question?"

Thranduil's eyes once again fixed upon Caliel as he disregarded his son's growing antipathy.

"You, Caliel was it? You mentioned Legolas had spoken of me; what else has he told you?"

"Umm," she quickly looked toward Legolas but he didn't appear to be following the conversation.

Caliel wondered if maybe, judging by his father's line of questioning, if Legolas perhaps had told her something she wasn't supposed to know? Or maybe, things he didn't _want_ his father to know?

"Have you no words to speak for yourself?" Thranduil asked as he caught her looking to his son for help.

"It's…I just…" she stumbled along not knowing what to say, all the while feeling the Elvenking's unwavering gaze fixated on her.

"I have told her many things," Legolas supplied casually without the slightest hesitation.

"Such as?" Thranduil asked, suspicion creeping into his sharp features.

"Such as how we are immortal and that unlike the race of men we sleep with our eyes open; also how you once greatly enjoyed vinification."

Caliel noticed that Legolas had stopped short of revealing his concerns about his father directly to him or any mention of his mother. This confirmed her earlier suspicions that perhaps she were privy to some things even his own father did not know.

"I see…" Thranduil mumbled, sounding unimpressed. "Tell me, do such trivialities interest you?"

"I don't consider it trivial at all," she answered honestly. "I think every difference between our races is fascinating. Like the whole sleeping with open eyes thing – I can't believe that that would be comfortable."

"Hmm…"

She wondered if he were either bored with her or unbelieving.

"So you desire to learn as much as you can about my race?"

"Yes, like I said – I find it fascinating."

"Interesting…" he touched his fingers to his chin and a smug smile spread across his lips as though he had at last confirmed something to himself.

"And you Legolas," he continued pompously. "Many have commented regarding your frequent visitations with our human guest here. They say that you spend countless hours alone…just the two of you… Have you an explanation for this?"

"Oh course," Legolas replied calmly. "She was injured and needed assistance. I was the one who happened upon her and so I felt it my responsibility to tend to her."

"So you spent all those _long_ hours neglecting your own _established_ duties in favour of her? All in the name of _responsibility_?"

"I was only errant in my duties for the one instance Father," Legolas' voice remained level but the subject was still a delicate one to broach, causing his body to tense in response.

"Once was more than enough…" Thranduil softly admonished.

"Don't blame him," Caliel interrupted forcefully, causing Thranduil to raise a brow at her questioningly. "It's my fault he forgot that night. He was occupied with tending to me and if I hadn't gotten in his way, he would never have forgotten," she paused to gather up the courage for what she was about to say next. "_Please_ don't blame him. It's not right to make him feel guilty for something he didn't cause. You have no idea how much this has been bothering him and… and it's just not fair! He shouldn't have to suffer like this!"

Legolas had looked over at her in surprise but Thranduil remained unmoved.

"Do you care for my son?" he asked bluntly, causing her mouth to drop open in shock. "You make such a poor attempt at hiding it that one wonders if you are even trying to conceal it all. Why else would it be any concern of _yours_ how _he_ feels?"

"Because he is my friend!" she snapped angrily.

In small part, her frustration stemmed from her embarrassment over Thranduil blatantly blurting out her innermost feelings so rudely as though they were insignificant. Mostly though, she had simply had enough; enough of his condescending attitude, enough of his intimidating glares, and definitely enough of how poorly he treated his wonderful son.

"Legolas is an amazingly kind and caring person – something you could never hope to be. You should appreciate him and yet all you seem to do is pick on him and invent reasons to blame him!"

"Caliel…" Legolas breathed, looking at her in astonishment.

"You _dare_ question my devotion to my son?"

A brisk wind kicked up about them as if on command as Thranduil glowered down at her threateningly.

"Yes," she continued with manufactured courage. "When your actions all but _beg_ me to do so."

"Listen _girl_…" he growled dangerously.

Gone was the false apathy he sought to convey, replaced only by a raw and unbridled disdain.

"How dare you… you who have been here what, 3 days is it? It astonishes me that you believe yourself so proficient at observation that you claim to know not only my mind, but my very heart- especially as we have only just met. I have lived in these lands for thousands of years and will remain here for thousands more. _You_ hope to know _me_? When your puny life will be as no more than a passing season in our eyes. You will be long dead and forgotten with naught but a grave to remember your name.

You do not even know the one you love…pathetic. So you believe my son to be _kind_ do you? Then answer me this: does a _kind _person abuse a poor defenseless elleth when she is grieving simply because she was unable to control her emotions in her time of despair?"

"_Abuse_?" Caliel repeated back incredulously as she looked to Legolas for clarification.

Caliel was startled to catch a shadow of regret descend upon his face as he hung his head in shame.

"So you did not tell her..?" Thranduil asked, sounding stunned.

"Tell me…what?" Caliel asked fearfully, turning her body around so it was only Legolas she saw.

When he didn't answer, a feeling of dread came over her and she found herself looking back toward the Elvenking for an explanation.

"There is your proof! He cannot even admit what he did to himself," Thranduil declared with distaste. "Caliel, do you wonder why it was that Bogwen became so unnaturally alarmed by Legolas' presence earlier?"

Again, Caliel looked from father to son only to find Legolas' face turned away from hers.

"Why..?" she cautiously asked, addressing Thranduil once more.

"It was because when he happened upon her, she made some rather…_unfavourable_ comments about you. She claims Legolas was incensed by this and behaved as though he were a wild animal, grabbing at her arm near to the point of breaking."

"I _gripped_ her arm! But nowhere near to that extreme!" Legolas' head shot up, his blue eyes ablaze with contention.

"So you admit it," Thranduil pointed out triumphantly.

"Yes," Legolas' admitted quickly. "But I was only-!"

"_But_ nothing," Thranduil countered. "So, Caliel- do you still think him _kind_?"

Thranduil cocked his head to the side as he keenly awaited her response.

Caliel could hardly believe her ears. If it were only Thranduil making this outlandish accusation she wouldn't have given him the time of day. And yet Legolas actually admitted it! It certainly didn't seem like something he would do… There had to be an explanation! Bogwen had already proven herself sneaky and underhanded and as a result Raenion's life was in danger – and this was someone she _claimed_ to love! Her cruelty knew no bounds… Yes, Legolas probably has a perfectly reasonable explanation for his actions, she decided as she looked straight into the merciless Elvenking's empty eyes.

"Yes, I hold true to the belief that Legolas is a kind person- I believe that with all my heart. He would only resort to such actions if Bogwen had brought it on herself. I have no doubt of this."

Thranduil's lips thinned as he frowned at her, disappointed with her sickeningly loyal response.

"A shame," he falsely lamented. "You almost seemed as if you held some iota of intelligence – for a child of Men. Your response only further confirms what I had already thought to be correct… The truth lies at your feet and yet instead of facing it, you go out of your way to avoid it. You are _no one_ and you _know nothing_."

"Father that is enough!" Legolas commanded, shaking with anger. "You have only just met her yourself – how dare you call her _no one_ when you know nothing about her!"

"I know all I need to," his father dismissed. "I do find it rather odd though…" he said darkly as his scrutinizing eyes passed from his son to Caliel.

Thranduil began tapping his finger rhythmically against his oaken staff and regarded her with a thoughtful expression.

"You profess that I am all but a tyrant – do not bother to deny it – I can _sense_ it. Yet how can you be certain _you_ are any better? You who has no recollection of your past and who exactly you are, is that not correct? You accuse me of maltreatment of my own son…but what if you are the one that will bring about a pain and devastation far greater than I ever could possibly inflict upon him?"

"I would never do that!" Caliel cried, feeling incredibly insulted that he would even suggest such a thing.

"Would you not?" he demanded coldly.

"No! This is insane…" she whispered as she felt her world circling around her.

How did this become about her? Why was _her_ loyalty suddenly called into question?

"You can read minds can't you?" she said abruptly with determination. "Tell me whatever I have to do so you can roam around freely up there and see for yourself!"

"It would be a wasted effort. I cannot reach information inaccessible to even its own master," he said watching as she teetered on the edge of despair. "I have recently become aware of a troubling theory regarding your _ill-timed_ memory loss. Would you like to hear it?" he looked carefully from Caliel back to his son, tapping his staff as if to count the passing seconds.

"…what is it?"

Caliel looked over at Legolas in absolute shock. Did he doubt her after all?

"You are interested then – good, there is cause for hope yet," Thranduil declared with mock glee. "I shall put this bluntly: Legolas, are you in love with Caliel?"

"What..?"

Legolas was completely caught off guard by his father's question as it had been the last thing he had expected to hear. He wondered what that could possibly have to do with his father's supposed _theory_ about her.

"Your silence speaks volumes my son…"

Legolas became aware that it was not only his father watching him closely. But how could he possibly answer that question when he didn't even know what the answer was himself?

"…yes," he admitted softly, raising his eyes to meet his father's. "I do care for her – she has become a dear friend and her well-being is a prominent concern of mine."

His father frowned, dissatisfied with his son's carefully constructed answer.

"Indeed, she must be a remarkable person at that!" Thranduil stated sarcastically. "After all, you have only known her for 3 days time, and she was unconscious for the better part of 1 as I recall. To consider her a 'dear friend' in so short a time frame… that is a rare occurrence! Especially in these dark times…"

Caliel watched as Legolas' jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed.

"What are you getting at?" he questioned suspiciously.

Thranduil shrugged arrogantly.

"It is as I have said. Such fast friendships seldom take place anymore. Does the fact that you seem to trust her _so implicitly_ without true cause alarm you at all?"

"She has done nothing for me to _distrust_ her."

"That is not the same thing. Tell me, if a man from one of the encampments near the Celduin river were to, by some miraculous feat, find his way to our home as Caliel so mysteriously did, would you so readily give him your trust?"

"…no," Legolas replied quietly as he realized grimly that his father's point had been made.

What was it about Caliel that he found so easily trustworthy? Even if he were to attempt to articulate his reasoning, he doubted 'trust' was a word his father could even comprehend at this point – let alone experience firsthand.

"Precisely what I am driving at. Your _familiarity_ with her is progressing at a worrisome rate and I fear where it will lead you and how long it will be before you are completely lost to me."

"What are you implying? That my friendship with Caliel is somehow _dangerous_? That is the most foolish thing that I have heard…"

"The only thing _foolish_ about it is that you fail to see what is happening for yourself!" Thranduil shouted angrily as he clutched his staff tightly in hand.

Caliel felt sick as her hand went for the back of her neck. A terrible headache beat like war drums through her, radiating pain down into her neck and chest. The air had become thick and heavy and her breathing became raspy and shallow.

"So tell me!" Legolas ordered flippantly as he held his hands out, welcoming his father's madness with open arms. "What is it that is apparent to all but myself?"

"You are bewitched me son!" Thranduil asserted. "By that being masquerading as a girl…" he raised a finger and pointed accusingly toward an extremely shocked Caliel.

Legolas' face contorted at the sheer ludicrousness of his father's insane claim.

"That is preposterous! She is but a young woman; how would she possibly wield such dark magic!?"

"Servants of our enemy are not retained for their looks, but for their power. How she may appear to us is irrelevant. For all we know, that could be an illusion to draw suspicion away from her."

Legolas crossed his arms and placed his palm to his forehead, shaking his head in wonder.

Caliel watched anxiously as he began to laugh, softly at first, but it soon gained volume and the maniacal tone it dawned sent shivers down her spine. She was uncertain _what_ or _if_ she should say anything. How could she defend herself from these outlandish claims? _Was_ there a way to?

Her head throbbed painfully as she wracked her brain trying to come up with a solution, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't get her mind to function properly. As soon as the beginnings of an idea started to take shape, the thought felt as though it were plucked from her mind by invincible hands. Frustration and fear continued to escalate and out of sheer desperation she began hitting her forehead with the side of her hand trying to force her brain to work.

Legolas stopped laughing but still stood shaking his head.

"So is this it?" he posed to his father. "Have you truly lost yourself to madness?"

Legolas' joyless smile slowly faded from his face as he regarded the ellon he once called 'Ada' with sadness.

"I had hoped one day you would see reason again," he informed his father sorrowfully. "I had always held that hope because Mother seemed all but assured of it…but it would seem she was wrong- how very sad for her…" he lamented as he gradually stood. "_My lord, _your accusations are incredible and baseless and I simply cannot believe they hold a shred of truth."

The fury that gripped the Elvenking was so great that even he trembled under its influence as it consumed his senses, rendering him incapable of uttering a single word.

Legolas could stand to look upon his father no longer, as he turned his back to him unable to bear the miserable sight.

"Caliel…" he gently called, looking at her with raw heartache and disappointment that made her heart stop. "Let us go," he said simply as he reached a hand out toward her, giving her a small, melancholy smile.

Caliel didn't dare glance at Thranduil as she could physically feel his rage coming at her in droves. She stood quickly and reached out to take Legolas' offered hand but gasped in fear as the hand that gripped hers was not his.

Moving with a deadly speed, Thranduil had lunged toward the pair and grabbed Caliel by the wrist before she could reach Legolas. She cried out in alarm and distress as at his touch her world began to darken. She could faintly hear shouting but it seemed distant and muffled as if she were drowning. Her vision dotted and she felt herself being yanked forward but all strength left her and she fell to her knees heavily. The pain that arose from her legs paled in comparison to the horrendous pressure that continued to build up in her head to the point where she felt as though her mind were being torn in half.

More raised voiced and harsh words, but she had no hope of distinguishing them; if they were difficult to hear before, they were all but impossible now. Were they even speaking anymore? Were they even there? Caliel's thoughts muddled as she felt her consciousness slipping away as the ringing that originated from within her head grew louder and louder. She feared she would be driven mad from it and frantically wished it would stop – even death would be preferable to this as long as it stopped!

She barely registered the coldness of the stone on her face as she fell completely to the ground. Strong arms jostled her but the rocking motion only served to further her divorce from reality as at last the infernal ringing finally ceased and only silence remained.

**xxXXxx**

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><p><strong>I feel like the Snowman from Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer hiding from the Abominable behind his umbrella. <strong>

…**is it safe to come out?**

**;)**

**Only 1 small side note this time.**

**Thranduil called it the Celduin river which is kind of redundant as Celduin means River Running (I think). But for the sake of clarification, I wrote it as Celduin river so it's abundantly clear that it's a river. **


	17. Of an Unforgettable Tragedy

**I do not own anything Tolkien related and I am only borrowing his amazing characters.**

**Thanks to all my wonderful reviewers and readers - you are the wind in my sails! **

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><p><strong>Chapter 17<strong>

**Of an Unforgettable Tragedy**

"Are you deaf!?" Legolas yelled harshly at the bewildered guard that stood motionless near by.

Having heard the commotion from outside, Calenor had unlatched the door to investigate with his sword at the ready, but instead he came upon a most bizarre sight.

King Thranduil had the human girl by the wrist as she knelt with her body esque. Her eyes were closed and she appeared completely lifeless. The prince was livid as he repeatedly demanded that his father release her at once.

But the most peculiar thing of all was Thranduil himself. Amidst the strident cursing of his son he stood absolutely still in likeness of a lighthouse weathering a storm. His eyes were unfocused and stared wildly into nothingness as though he were witnessing something unseen to all but himself.

Calenor, the lone guard, found himself cautiously drawing closer as he readied himself to protect his king from the prince's forming assault, when abruptly Thranduil released the girl's wrist sending her crashing to the ground like a doll.

No sooner had the girl collided with the ground then the prince had rushed to her aid, collecting her protectively in his arms.

And yet _still_ the king stood motionless.

"_What in the name of Ilúvatar has come over you_!?"

Legolas had shouted at him, but the king either did not hear or took no notice, instead only slowly gliding as if in a trance toward the entrance to the mountain halls.

"Thranduil!" Legolas yelled. "Thranduil – _Adar_!"

But the Elvenking's only response was to continue walking as his son stared after him in shock.

Once his hand found the door frame, Thranduil suddenly stopped and tilted his head over his shoulders toward his son.

"I was incorrect," he said, so softly Legolas had to strain to hear. "That girl…I have changed my mind – she may stay as long as necessary to restore her mind to as it once was."

Legolas stared after his father, his brows knotting in complete astonishment as Caliel dangled limply in his arms. Having long ago reached his breaking point, Legolas raised his head toward the sky and cried out in frustration; the sound of his voice echoing throughout the autumn forest causing a small flock of birds to abandon their resting tree.

Calenor stood closely by his prince, rendered completely speechless, uncertain what he should do.

Legolas lowered his head against Caliel's and closed his eyes, trying to get hold of his surging emotions.

"Wake up Caliel…" he whispered to her, his voice cracking as if to break. "I need your comfort…I need you now…"

When he opened his eyes Legolas' faint hopes were dashed as he found she lay still in his arms unresponsive. He stroked her forehead tenderly as he rose to his feet.

It was only then he noticed the shaken guard standing next to him.

"You there!" he called to him. "Run and fetch a healer!"

But the ellon stood rooted to the spot, not appearing to have heard.

"Are you deaf!?" Legolas yelled angrily as his concern for Caliel grew.

"Fetch a healer…" the ellon repeated dumbly as he began to come around. "Yes, yes of course my lord!"

"Send him to my chambers!" Legolas called after him as he dashed away into the mountain.

Legolas gripped Caliel securely in his arms as he followed toward the entrance.

"Hold on _mellon_…you cannot leave me yet…" he said, kissing her gently on the forehead.

**xxXXxx**

Once inside the safe confine of his chambers, Legolas set about tending to his friend the best he knew how; all the while anxiously awaiting the arrival of the errant healer. His nerves prevented him from staying in one place too long as he alternated between pensively sitting at her side to pacing about erratically.

As he took to his feet for the umpteenth time, he crossed his arm over his chest to rest his other arm as it propped his chin up.

"Where are you..?" he grumbled as he glared at the wooden wall clock above.

It was nearly 4 p.m. – 10 minutes since he had arrived and nearly 15 since he had called for a healer.

"This is unacceptable," he continued to grumble as he began marching toward the door, but he stopped short as he cast an indecisive look back over at his unconscious friend.

'I cannot leave her unattended…' he realized as he wavered from his warpath. 'And yet I cannot stay here forever waiting!'

"_Rhaich_!" he cursed under his breath as his fingers frantically tapped away at his chin.

'5 more minutes…' he thought with dwindling patience. He didn't know what he would do after those 5 minutes had come and gone, but having a solid time frame gave him a small sense of direction - for now.

3 agonizing minutes later and the stone floor beneath his feet was somehow miraculously managing to hold its own under the rigorous testing Legolas endeavoured to impose upon it.

2 – no, 1 more minutes left.

"To the depths with it!" Legolas decided as he took one last look from the door back to his injured friend.

But before he could re-engage his hastily constructed plan, the door became ajar and in stepped a fair haired ellon with wide, youthful grey eyes. His large navy robe nearly swallowed him up as he shuffled into the room, the silver tipped hem dragging along behind him.

Legolas regarded him wordlessly, silently scrutinizing his capabilities. He was young – most assuredly an apprentice.

But what he lacked in age he more than made up for in perception though it seemed, as he bowed properly to his prince before immediately addressing his unspoken concerns.

"My lord, my master sends his deepest apologies, but he is immensely busy with a critical patient at the moment and he sent me in his stead. My name is Maeron and without arrogance I can assure you that I am the most learned of all Nestor's apprentices, having compiled more than 30 years worth of training and practical application of the arts."

Legolas wasn't entirely convinced but it appeared as if he had no other option.

"Fine," he affirmed.

Maeron turned to shut the door behind him but Legolas jumped to the task.

"Never mind with that – I will get it. See to her," Legolas implored as he quickly overtook the apprentice and closed the door shut behind him.

Obeying his prince, Maeron approached the human girl and looked her over rapidly as he took his seat. He then placed his wrist to her forehead.

"No fever…nothing appears out of place… What were the circumstances surrounding her loss of consciousness?" he asked with polished finesse.

For a young one, his professional demenour impressed Legolas, who for once was glad his initial impression had been incorrect. Despite this though, he was still reluctant to readily divulge the events of that afternoon with another – save one person, who was unfortunately unavailable at this time it seemed.

"If it will not have any bearing on treatment I would rather not say," Legolas answered cryptically.

Maeron's large eyes visibly narrowed in confusion, but stayed true to his teaching and did not question his lord.

"As you wish…"

In his voice, Legolas could hear the healer's reluctance, but it didn't make him feel any more inclined to speak on the matter. That one guard had witnessed the greater part of the ordeal on the balcony so it was likely that knowledge of the happenings would make their way around in time; for now though, he still opted to conceal it as best as he could. There was much he needed to discuss with his father – with _Thranduil_, rather.

"Do you know what is wrong with her?" Legolas asked, redirecting the conversation back to his friend and away from the grim matter which he did not wish to speak of.

Maeron cast him a sideways glance as his prince resumed his anxious pacing.

"Give me a moment," Maeron instructed as he held his hand out above her forehead and steadily moved it down to her torso and feet.

Legolas observed that his eyes were shut tightly as a look of intense concentration adorned his young face.

"It is odd…" Maeron spoke haltingly as uncertainly saw his brows narrow.

"What is?" Legolas asked seriously as he came to a standstill.

"There is no sign of physical injury, no indication of sickness and yet…"

"And yet?" Legolas repeated, prompting the studious elf.

Maeron lowered his arm and drew back his hand from Caliel's forehead, leveling Legolas with a cautiously inquisitive stare.

"I know you said that you cannot tell me how she came to be like this…" he trailed off purposefully, testing his prince's conviction to secrecy.

When Legolas' only reaction was a silent glare Maeron rushed to continue.

"I do not know if this will make any sense or not, but it appears as if her body has recently undergone a great strain – something which taxed her body beyond its limits. Her adrenals for instance: they are completely spent – that is what brought about her unconsciousness. Her body lacked the necessary energy to counteract whatever it was defending itself against and so," he waved his hand toward her and shrugged. "What you see before you is the result."

Maeron watched as his prince's head fell nearly to his chest as he turned away. His expression was somber and forlorn as he thought hard on an issue Maeron was left only to guess at.

"She will recover," the healer offered his prince. "She is only sleeping. Once her body restores itself she will awaken."

At that Legolas' eyes met Maeron's and he nodded quietly in understanding. The reprieve was short lived however, as he appeared to delve right back into whatever troubled him so.

Having no knowledge on what the issue could be and thus having no way to assist his prince, Maeron found himself without purpose as he sat there quietly observing Legolas. Though he could not say for sure what it was, he seemed different. Maeron's eyes fell upon his patient and he wondered if she could perhaps be the cause of it. He had heard the rumours of course, but had not attributed them much worth…now, he wasn't so sure.

"If I am no longer needed then my lord… I must return to assist my master," he said rising from his seat.

"Yes, of course. But a question before you go: that patient Nestor is occupied with," Legolas began reflectively. "It would not be Raenion would it?"

Maeron looked at him with slight surprise.

"Yes. But how did you-?"

"What is his condition?" Legolas asked with some urgency as he disregarded the healer's question.

"I fear it dwindles by the hour…it…" he sighed dejectedly. "It does not look hopeful."

"I see…"

Legolas lowered his arms to his sides and looked decidedly at the apprentice healer with the overlarge robe.

"Maeron was it?"

"Yes my lord."

"I am afraid your master will have to do without you for a little while longer. I have somewhere I need to be but I cannot afford to leave Caliel alone."

"You wish me to remain here until you return?"

"Yes – if you are able."

"If that is your wish my lord then I shall do as asked."

"Maeron," Legolas addressed him directly, his tone indicative of the seriousness of the instructions he was about to relay. "Do not leave her for even a moment. If at any time you find yourself called back to your post, please ensure to appoint another in your stead. Is this understood?"

"Implicitly," Maeron replied.

He had no sooner given the prince his answer only to watch as Legolas strode over and through the door, shutting it forcefully behind him without another word.

Maeron turned back to view the sleeping human with renewed curiosity as he secretly pondered the nature of their relationship.

**xxXXxx**

Once outside the room Legolas put his abundant stock of adrenalin to good use as he walked briskly down the corridor in search of his father.

Originally he had intended to visit Nestor first and check on Raenion, but if he were already that far gone then Legolas couldn't spare any time. There was only one way to save him and, unfortunately, his father was the only one capable of authorizing the necessary treatment.

There was also much he desired to speak with him about; specifically, what had happened after he had grabbed Caliel and why he suddenly consented to allow her to stay with them.

But first he had to find him…

Being close to dinner time, there was scarce little movement about the hallways as most had ventured off to the kitchen to prepare their meals or had already returned to their domains to eat. Only two guards remained about as they awaited their replacements, but regrettably, neither one of them had seen Thranduil recently.

Disappointed, Legolas decided he'd have no other choice but to painstakingly search all the rooms his father frequented and go by process of elimination.

"Legolas!" a familiar voice suddenly called out.

Legolas stopped mid stride and turned around. Behind him a tall, heavily armoured ellon stood smiling at him pleasantly.

"It has been awhile, _mellon_," Aglaron greeted amicably. "How have things been in my absence? I am just on my way to dinner myself."

"Aglaron," Legolas' surprise turned to joy as he headed back down the steps and gripped his friend's offered hand. "It is good to see you again. Things have been…_eventful_."

Aglaron raised a brow and regarded his prince curiously as he gripped his wrist in return.

"Why do I feel as though that is a gross understatement?" he asked coyly.

Legolas laughed wryly.

"You may be correct- partly, anyway."

"Hmm," Aglaron tilted his head, intrigued. "You must fill me in on the details later."

"Indeed, I intend to. I could use your input on a few things. When did you return from Rivendell?"

"Only this morning past. I apologize for not coming by to visit you sooner but if I could borrow a page from your lexicon, my journey was rather 'eventful' to say the least."

Aglaron's face appeared lighthearted but there was an inner seriousness about his eyes as though something were troubling him, yet he would not say.

"Was it now?" Legolas asked suspiciously but his friend only laughed dismissively.

"Perhaps I am exaggerating. At any rate, we should arrange a time to sit down and catch up. It has been what, nearly 30 years since last I saw you?"

"About that I believe."

"Indeed. I am eager to hear what you have been up to!"

"I as well."

Legolas' eyes were quickly drawn behind his friend as a small group of elves came into view from down the hall. He quickly assessed each in turn but soon came to the conclusion that his father was not among them.

Aglaron looked curiously behind as well to see what had suddenly captured his prince's attention.

"Someone you know?" he questioned non-pulsed.

"No," Legolas replied as he returned his attention to his friend.

"Looking for someone?" Aglaron asked, noting Legolas' disappointment.

"Yes, actually: Thranduil."

"_Thranduil_?" Aglaron repeated in surprise. "Come Legolas, I know you are fully grown now, but he is still your father. Why so formal?"

But Legolas' eyes became like stone as his face darkened, prompting Aglaron's concern for his young prince.

"Legolas?" he asked cautiously as he lowered his voice to ensure they were the only ones able to hear. "What is it?"

"Much has happened since you departed for Rivendell," Legolas quietly informed him.

Aglaron nodded steadily as his face became serious.

"I think perhaps we had better expedite our 'little chat' to your earliest convenience…"

"Agreed," Legolas consented. "Come to my chambers in an hour from now. I must tend to a couple urgent matters at the moment I am afraid."

"And that is why you are looking for your father?"

"Yes. Have you seen him?"

"I was just about to say: I have only just left from a meeting with him not 10 minutes ago."

"You have?" Legolas asked quickly, not wanting to delay any longer.

"Yes, in the War Room. I was filling him in on my recent encounters along the path here and of matters abroad. He is still there speaking to Othon last I saw."

Aglaron hadn't even time to finish his sentence as his prince dashed down the steps beside him.

"Steady on! Legolas- wait!" a bewildered Aglaron called after him.

Legolas abruptly stopped to face him but it was clear he was in a great rush.

"I am sorry my friend," he hastily spoke. "In an hour's time I will fill you in on all that has transpired of late; but for now I fear I cannot spare the time. _An hour – I vow it_!"

Without waiting for his former guard's response, Legolas bounded down the last of the steps and through the door to the next corridor.

Meanwhile the forgotten ex-guard stood shaking his head in wonder.

"Well if that does not beat all…I live here for well over 500 years and hardly so much as the seasons change, only to leave for a mere 32 years and all chaos reins!"

Aglaron turned to head toward the kitchen to fetch his dinner but couldn't help the uneasiness that gripped him as he wondered fearfully if a promise he made long ago could have been unwittingly broken during his absence.

**xxXXxx**

At the sound of the door swinging open, Thranduil looked up from the large circular table below him to regard his son with guarded interest.

Across from his father stood another ellon with dark hair and apathetic grey eyes. He also cast Legolas a brief glance of recognition as he nodded politely to him, only to resume whatever he had previously been doing.

"Unless I am mistaken, I had thought our discussion over with," Thranduil remarked dully as he leaned over the table and pointed out various spots on an old looking parchment to the elf near him.

The ellon's eyes remained on his king but as Thranduil went about quietly questioning him on various things, his eyes fell once more on the parchment before him as he listened carefully to his lord's remarks.

"After how our last _discussion_ ended did you really expect that I would simply let the matter be?" Legolas asked with considerable annoyance as he watched his father, still hunched over the table, forcibly shut his eyes in aggravation.

Again, the ellon looked toward his king and watched as he gradually straightened to full height. Thranduil acknowledged the elf's unspoken question as he nodded his consent for him to take his leave.

The dark-haired elf bowed to Thranduil and Legolas before quickly departing- all too eager to escape the tense atmosphere that had unexpectedly arisen.

Yet instead of facing his son, Thranduil continued seemingly to devote all his attention to the mysterious parchment rolled out across the table, its ends curling over slightly from prolonged storage.

"What is it you want?" Thranduil asked without interest. "I am busy at the moment."

"Busy with _what_?" Legolas asked as he made his way over to the prominent wooden table.

From close up he realized it was not just any parchment his father was so intently fixated on, but a map, a very old and detailed map in fact. It encompassed much of the former Greenwood extending even beyond and into the boarders of Lórien to the south and Rivendell in the west. The creator of the map had painstakingly added every minute detail he had thought to and it was evident that this had been a well-treasured piece.

Legolas' eyes wandered from each location, beginning with Ered Mithrin in the north down to Emyn Duir, otherwise known commonly as The Mountains of Mirkwood. In the east the Celduin ran, eventually coming to pool in the Sea of Rhûn. However, it was a name in the south that had caught his eye – Dol Guldur. It sat nestled on the very edge of the forest directly east from Lórien, a dark and foreboding place that few dared enter. As an elfling Legolas had been well schooled in the history surrounding that area and he recalled vividly how the mere mention of that name had sent shivers down his spine. Even now, nearly a century later, the place still gave him with an uneasy feeling.

"Found something of interest?"

Legolas looked up to find his father watching him inquisitively, his head tilted to glimpse for himself what his son was so intent on.

"Ah," Thranduil smiled knowingly. "Still frightened by that place are you? That was once where our capital stood you know, on Amon Lanc."

"Yes, I remember the stories. How grandfather had protected it for as long as he could from evil and questionable influences before at last taking our people northward for refuge."

"Our time there was but a short one, as it came to pass that we would be pursued even there. It would seem our enemies are forever at our heels like rabid dogs. I suppose little comfort may be taken from that however; they must perceive us as quite the threat to warrant such ceaseless devotion. Those _yrch _lack the mental capacity to formulate even their own language and yet they always remember us… Of course they are far too cowardly to attack us directly, but rather insist upon lying in wait, hidden in the shadows."

"Indeed," Legolas muttered dispassionately, tearing his sights from the warn parchment. "I did not come here for a history lesson, _Father_. I want to discuss what happened this afternoon. What did you do to Caliel? And why did you change your mind so quickly regarding her fate here?"

Legolas glared into his father's icy eyes and when his questions were met only by silence he slammed his fist down on the table in frustration.

"Answer me!" he shouted angrily.

"Kindly remove your hand from my map or I shall be forced to remove it for you…" Thranduil warned as he slowly walked away toward a window on the other side of the room.

As he came to a standstill, he looked out at the autumn forest below with an unreadable expression. Several minutes passed without word leaving Legolas to wonder if he would ever receive an answer.

When Thranduil did finally speak his voice was soft and hollow, as if he were speaking not to Legolas, but to himself.

"I had not anticipated her presence…this complicated matters…"

"What are you talking about?" Legolas queried, leaping on his father's strange words. "What does she complicate?"

At the sound of his son's voice, Thranduil's head snapped over his shoulder as though startled by his presence.

"Why I have allowed her to remain is none of your concern," he scoffed arrogantly as he sauntered over to stand nearer to his son. "I would have thought you would be grateful at the news, since you are so _fond_ of her… Of course, if you would prefer I had her sent away -"

"No," Legolas decidedly interrupted.

"Then do not question my reasoning. I am not over fond of your fraternization with her as it stands. Do not give me reason to rid myself of her cumbersome presence."

"Yes Father…"

But this did little to assuage Legolas' nagging curiosity. If his father truly disliked Caliel then why even entertain the possibility of her continued residence? Yet his decision to allow her shelter within their walls far surpassed even this – why? To what end?

"Legolas," Thranduil called once again commanding his attention as his authoritative voice filled the room. "In the morrow I would see a return to your duties in assisting patrol of the outer gates. You have burrowed yourself away within this mountain for far too long."

"Tomorrow?" Legolas questioned, his eyes apprehensive. "But what about Caliel?"

"What of her?" Thranduil countered, frowning at her mere mention.

"I do not like the idea of leaving her alone…" Legolas answered with reluctance apparent.

"She is safely within our walls; what possible harm could come to her?"

Thranduil's frown turned into a scowl as he observed his son with disapproval. Why did her insignificant life matter to him so much? He is the only son of an Elvenking – a prince himself. He is vastly superior to her in both race and status and yet he continually relegates himself to her level. Why!?

"Very well…" he sighed heavily, resigning himself to his son's stubbornness. "If only to ensure your safety and keep your mind focused on your assignment. You may assign _one_ ellon to act as a personal guard for her. Does this satisfy you?"

Legolas still harboured his doubts but knew this was likely the best offer he would get from his father.

"As you command, my lord…"

"Legolas…" Thranduil's voice suddenly became tender as he regarded him with unusual fondness.

It was an expression Legolas had not seen cross his father's face in many years and as such captured his full attention.

"You have grown so much…your mother would scarcely recognize you. How greatly you resemble your grandfather…" he gave a small smile, his eyes melancholy as he lovingly ran his fingers down the side of his son's face.

Legolas stiffened at his father's abnormally cold touch- his fingers were like ice.

"He was of much the same mindset as you, you know," Thranduil said, resuming his train of thought. "He believed there could be no true peace for our realm as long as the enemy lived. It was for this reason he allied himself with the elves of Lórinand and marched with King Amdír to vanquish the enemy…"

Thranduil's hand left his son's face and Legolas glimpsed his eyes begin to darken.

"In my father's quest to find an everlasting peace he found only his own demise as he, along with two thirds of our army were slain that day…"

Thranduil closed his eyes as the long held painful memories came washing over him as raw and cutting as the day they were branded upon his consciousness.

Legolas was struck by how fragile his father suddenly seemed.

"Legolas, the last war nearly brought our kingdom to its knees. The value of lives lost that day can never be replaced and the tragedy of it all lingers to this day. Were it not for your mother and the promise of new life, I hesitate to say that I would not have endured…"

Legolas watched as his father became drawn once again toward the window and a fleeting smile passed over his lips.

"It was your mother who instilled in me the strength to continue, to restore what was left of our home and people and fashion a strong, independent home worthy of housing a family of our own someday…"

Thranduil's eyes shone at the memory but when he fixed them back on his grown son all light left them, replaced by a deep seated desperation that drained his body and mind, rendering him frighteningly vulnerable.

"I know you disagree with me and you _cannot_ know how it wounds me to know this; but for those reasons, I _will not_ engage this realm in another futile campaign. _You are all that I have left in this world_…you are all that I hold dear to my heart. If I were to lose you I would lose what is left of my heart. You are all that matters to me and _everything_ I do is for your benefit – though, I am aware that you cannot see this…yet. I have hope, that in time, you and I will come to see eye to eye once more…"

Thranduil took another step forward, bringing himself mere inches from Legolas as he gazed at his son with love filled pride and began stroking his hair affectionately.

"My little leaf…please tell me you do not question my unyielding love for you?"

His father's voice was quiet but desperate as though he feared to hear the answer. He all but shook with apprehension as he anxiously awaited his son's response.

"_Ada_…I…no, I do not, and have never, questioned your love…" Legolas stammered, his own heart in his throat as he realized his father was at the precipice of despair.

Thranduil was so gladdened by Legolas' words that he warmly embraced his estranged son and wrapped his arms around him as though he feared he would disappear at any moment.

"_Guren glassui_," he murmured, his voice heavy and strained. (From my heart, I thank you)

He dared to hold his son close to himself for a moment longer as he enjoyed the rare feeling of closeness that had eluded the pair for far too long. When he finally did pull back, Legolas was shocked to find that tears had gathered in his father's eyes.

"_I__on nîn_, this bad blood between us of late," Thranduil began gravely. "It weighs heavily upon my heart. I greatly desire a return to how things were when you were but an elfling. How did we become so distant? So cold toward one another..?"

Thranduil stared into his son's eyes carefully as if searching for answers as he ran his fingers through his hair once more, physically bridging the gap between them.

"I can only hope and pray to the Valar that you will forgive me one day…and embrace me not only as your lord, but as your father…"

"_Ada_ I…" Legolas choked back his own emotions as they threatened to carry him away.

"Do not force reluctant words," Thranduil softly instructed, dropping his hand from his son's hair. "Think on what I have said, but Legolas," his voice stiffened a little as he wished to emphasize what he was about to say. "Know that my love for you is as strong today as the day you were born – if not _stronger_. That is why I cannot possibly overstate this enough when I say to you: do not involve yourself too closely with the human…and do not look for hope where none can be found. Do you understand why I am telling you this..?" he asked gently, acutely aware of how his request could upset his son, though left with no alternative.

"Yes Father…" Legolas' reply sounded hollow as he closed his eyes and bowed before his father.

"Good…now," Thranduil's expression softened and he relaxed his shoulders, clapping a hand over Legolas' back. "Try to get some rest tonight for you must rise early tomorrow."

"Understood," Legolas replied formally as he seized the opportunity to leave.

Once he stood before the door however, he found he could not go – not yet. There was one last thing he needed to say.

"_Ada_," he called awaiting his father's attention patiently.

When Thranduil looked up at him Legolas struggled to articulate the depth of emotion their impromptu conversation had evoked within him. There was only one phrase that repeatedly came to mind amidst the chaos. It was probably better this way as the short phrase was the simplest of all – though it had been ages since he had last uttered it.

"_Gi melin, Ada_…" Legolas said softly. (I love you, Father)

And for what seemed like the first time in nearly 100 years, the Elvenking smiled.

**xxXXxx**

* * *

><p><strong>So there's a little insight into the mysterious thoughts of the Elvenking. What do we think? :p<strong>

**Notes:**

**Timeline! So this all takes place in the Third Age. Apparently the Istari came in TA 1000 (which obviously has to happen if I am to include Mithrandir). The War of the Ring happened in TA 3018 ish so I'm guessing this story takes place around 2200 – 2500 ish. Amroth, the last Sinda ruler of Lórien didn't die until TA 1981 so Galadriel and Celeborn had to take hold after he died. **

**Oropher actually moved his people numerous times (even living in Lórien for a time when it was still a Sinda that ruled before Celeborn and Galadriel). The Silvan elves also weren't too fond of the close proximity to ****Khazad****-****dûm**** either so that also influenced the migration…but to simplify the conversation I left this out. **

**Lórinand is an older name for****Lothlórien****, again before Galadriel and Celeborn. **

**Legolas' name literally means green (laeg) leaf (golas – technically a collection of leaves). Although apparently it's a Silvan dialect of pure Sindarin as technically it would be Laegolas, but Woodland elves have it as ****lêg**** not laeg. Laeg, I gather is also a rather old fashioned word for green as 'calen' is more common. But that would give us something like Calengolas instead…what do you think? ;) I thought having Thranduil call Legolas 'my little leaf' as a nick name would work on 2 levels. Firstly, it's a cute, short name befitting of a small elf child. Secondly, I theorize that before Legolas was born, Thranduil may have referred to his unborn child (as yet without a name) as his little leaf – being King of a forest dwelling people. Maybe the nickname stuck and the 'green' part came about because the former name of their realm was Greenwood. So maybe this decision of Thranduil's to name Legolas as Greenleaf was indicative of his hopes and aspirations for his son to help restore their home to its former glory. Or maybe I'm WAY overthinking this. :D**


	18. Of Plans Freshly Hatched

**I do not own anything Tolkien related and I am only borrowing his amazing characters.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 18:<strong>

**Of Plans Freshly Hatched**

It had been far too long since Legolas had seen a smile grace his father's lips. A true smile, one free of malice and sarcasm alike. He was loathe to see it end as he slowly pulled the door closed after him, leaving his father alone once again.

But, regretfully, Legolas' day was not yet over as there was one more person to whom he needed to pay a visit.

**xxXXxx**

Fragments of his conversation with his father continued to circulate within his mind as Legolas made the short trip from the War Room to the Healing Halls. He tried in vain to push the thoughts back but to no avail. For this reason he was understandably distracted as he slipped silently into Raenion's room.

Nestor had looked eagerly toward the door the moment he saw it open, but apprehension gave way to disappointment as he saw it was only his prince. Luckily for him, Legolas hadn't noticed as his eyes immediately were drawn to the unconscious ellon.

"Legolas," Nestor greeted sombrely. "What are you doing back here?"

"Your apprentice said you were busy with a critical patient," Legolas replied as he stepped closer to Raenion's bedside.

Nestor nodded in understanding as he came to stand closer to his prince.

"I do not know if 'critical' is the correct word for it," he said doubtfully as he looked his patient over carefully. "He is stable, technically, but it is only a matter of time before that changes. Already his vitals are steadily declining and his fae grows weaker by the hour. The assault the parasites were waging against the medicine has not lessened, despite the sudden absence of it. His body is now forced to wage a war alone against a massively fortified enemy…"

At his grim declaration Nestor placed his hand over Raenion's chest and closed his eyes as he confirmed his diagnoses.

"Is there nothing you can do?" Legolas asked eagerly as he observed the poor colouring once again apparent on the ailing ellon.

"Of course there is something I can do," Nestor replied sounding annoyed. "But my hands are tied! How can I be expected to perform my duties if I am unable to act! When I am forbidden from doing the _one thing_ that could save him!"

Nestor closed his eyes and covered his face with his hand, shaking his head plaintively.

"I am sorry…" he began regretfully. "My anger toward you is misplaced. I just cannot stand to feel so powerless as he suffers needlessly…"

"Your frustration is understandable, my friend," Legolas sympathized as he placed a hand against the healer's back.

"I only wish it did not have to be so…" Nestor lamented as he turned away from his dying patient. "He was doing so well against such challenging odds… I was reluctant to declare a guaranteed recovery because it was still too early, but Legolas…" Nestor turned his head toward his prince as he spoke in earnest. "I really believed he would recover…"

Nestor lowered his head and laughed softly at himself.

"I try to keep a distance between myself and my patients you must realize. After all, if I were to become emotionally attached to everyone I would be devastated if something tragic were to happen; that distance is what allows me to continue. Only once before have I crossed that barrier and the result was…agonizing," Nestor trailed off as his eyes moved about in worry.

Legolas quietly observed his friend, knowing without need of questioning, the patient whom Nestor alluded to.

"When my daughter died I thought I was to blame- that my _lack of skill_ was what killed her. But now I wonder if it was not a lack of ability but rather, that I was simply _too close_ to her as a patient – _too involved_. I swore I would never make that mistake with a patient again, regardless of whomever that person may be. But alas, I fear I have broken that rule with Raenion."

"Why him?" Legolas asked out of curiosity. "What made him different from all the thousands you have treated over the years?"

Nestor exhaled heavily and a bitter smile crept across his face. He had been well aware of the answer even before Legolas had touched upon the subject, having come to the stark realization on his own.

"Because he reminds me of Tathariel," Nestor admitted, a strange sort of humour filling his words to mask his pain.

Legolas could remember very little, if anything about Tathariel and he wondered in what way this ellon could possibly resemble Nestor's daughter. He certainly didn't look at all like how Legolas would expect Nestor's daughter to have appeared.

"_He_ reminded you of _her_?" Legolas asked somewhat surprised that such a connection could be drawn.

"Yes," Nestor insisted. "Not physically, of course – Tathariel was nearly identical to myself, much to the disappointment of my wife," he said laughing dryly.

"How unfortunate for her," Legolas added with a smirk. "I can see why your wife was upset by that."

"Come now…" Nestor spoke solemnly, giving Legolas a disapproving look. "I am not that unfortunate looking, am I?"

Legolas grinned mischievously as he deliberately withheld an answer from the healer.

"Hmph. As if _you_ are any more blessed in that department!" Nestor shot pretending to take offense.

Legolas staggered back with his hand over his heart as if recoiling from the impact of Nestor's insult.

The healer only shook his head at his prince's antics but gradually became serious.

"I only jest. You greatly resemble your father as well."

At his friend's harmless comment, Legolas' smile faded as he stared hard at him in irritation.

"I think for your own health _mellon_, you should sheath that razor sharp wit of yours," he warned him dangerously.

Nestor's face wrinkled as genuine confusion shone through.

"I gather that the two of you are not on the best of terms then?" he asked with some concern.

"This surprises you?" Legolas asked incredulously. "After today I would have thought you of all people would understand my distain for him. How is it you can harbour no ill-will toward him?"

"That is not entirely true, Legolas," Nestor began carefully. "I am not pleased with his decision, and do not think I am so forgiving as to absolve him entirely from blame…It is only that my concern for your father outweighs my anger toward him."

"_Your_ concern?"

Nestor had captured Legolas' attention and he listened inquisitively, yearning to know of another's suspicions regarding his father's strange behaviour. He darkly wondered how similarly his friend's concerns would mirror his own.

"Yes…"

Nestor sounded reluctant to give voice to his thoughts but Legolas wasn't about to forget that passing remark so easily.

"What concerns?" Legolas urged, carefully observing the healer's face for any trace of deceit.

"Mayhap it is better forgotten, for I am reluctant to speak ill of the King to his own son."

"Nestor, if you are concerned I will betray your trust-"

"No, that is not it," he quickly dispelled the thought. "I only wish to spare you from the incessant worries of a weary old healer. I have a tendency to overthink things, if you do not already know. I fear I may only be looking for orcs amongst lilies."

Legolas regarded him a moment before electing to confide his own long held fears in him.

"What if I were to tell you that you are not alone in your concerns..?" he asked slowly, allowing his friend time to register the meaning behind his words.

"What..? You as well..?"

Nestor seemed relieved to know he was not the only one to believe something was unusual about his old friend.

"Yes, for a number of years now in fact," Legolas informed him. "I was not aware any others shared in my observations."

"Nor was I – why did you not confide in me earlier, Legolas?" Nestor asked, sound a little hurt at being kept in the dark about something so important.

Legolas half shrugged and sighed.

"For reasons not dissimilar to your own you could say."

"I see…"

Nestor appeared to readily accept Legolas' answer as he once again checked on his patient's condition.

"How fares he?" Legolas asked cautiously.

Nestor frowned and shook his head once.

"The same…at this rate I will need to send for his parents sooner than later…"

"They have not returned since this afternoon I take it?"

"No, not that I can blame them. It must have been quite the shock…I still can hardly believe it myself. I never thought your father would do something like this…"

Nestor's eyes fell sadly upon the young ellon as he lay there oblivious to the great rift his condition had created in his family.

"Even if he were to awaken," Nestor said despondently. "His world would never be the same. After what his betrothed has done…as a parent myself, I would find it very difficult to find it in my heart to forgive Bogwen."

"This is right, you do not know…" Legolas said vaguely, earning him a quizzical look from his friend. "It may not be my right to tell you this but as Bogwen has seen fit to involve herself in my personal business I feel zero inclination to protect hers. Nestor, Bogwen is already Raenion's wife."

"So that is why Lassendaer struck her…" Nestor mused as though he were not surprised in the least by this.

Legolas was curious as to why the news did not shock his friend as it had himself.

The elder healer must have taken notice of his prince's perplexed expression as he readily supplied the answer to his question.

"You wonder as to why I am not moved by this?" Nestor asked with amusement.

"Since you asked – yes."

Nestor laughed at his young prince's ignorance on the subject, which only served to further befuddle Legolas.

"Forgive me. I am only appreciating your youth."

"At my expense I suspect…" Legolas muttered suspiciously, casting his friend a sideways glance.

"A little," the healer admitted with a jovial grin. "But to answer your question: it was intuition. I am a father but I was a husband long before that and there are certain things known only between spouses. When Bogwen spoke of Raenion's pain she was not speculating – she was certain of it as though she knew it to be absolute fact- which she evidently did as it turns out. Lassendaer caught on to it too, and her response confirmed his suspicions – and my own, to a lesser degree. But hearing that this is assuredly the truth I find myself empathizing with Lassendaer and I cannot say that I would have reacted differently…"

"I see…my father also knew – she told him during their secret discussion the night before. That is the real reason he agreed to change treatment in her favour."

"Well that certainly makes more sense…" Nestor affirmed but Legolas noted the uncertainty in his voice. "Even still…the Thranduil I knew would have blatantly disregarded the official rules if he thought it beneficial to another. It was almost as if he enjoyed upsetting them like that…"

"Unfortunately it did not end there…" Legolas mumbled ominously.

"What do you mean?"

Nestor stiffened in apprehension as he looked worriedly at his prince.

"You recall how Caliel and I were made to follow after my father left?"

"Yes…"

"Apparently he wanted to conduct a little interrogation under the premise of meeting Caliel."

"An interrogation?" the healer repeated in alarm.

"Yes. Complete with a guard posted outside the exit too, should either one of us attempt to flee his grasp I suppose," Legolas said flippantly, balking at the memory.

"The exit? He did not bring you down to the cellar did he..?"

"Oh no; at first he attempted to pass of his plan under the guise of introducing himself to Caliel. He soon dispensed with the act though, whether due to his own arrogance or because he thought Caliel too simple to catch on to his scheme, I know not."

"What did he have to say?"

Nestor gaged by the cross look Legolas wore it must not have been pleasant and he listened on in astonishment.

"He…" Legolas had to stop as he felt anger welling up in him as he brought to mind his father's ludicrous ramblings. "He said my relationship with Caliel is dangerous – that I am too close to her and that she is in actuality a servant of the enemy attempting to draw information out of me to use against us. Ah yes, I nearly forgot," he added sarcastically. "She has bewitched me into falling in love with her! Is that not the most asinine thing you have heard!? It is madness…a seed of insanity planted by Bogwen herself."

"That is an incredible claim…" Nestor confirmed, awestruck by the eccentric theory. "It does not hold though. If she truly were capable of such dark magic it would be all the more difficult to conceal her true nature from us – especially yourself, given your mother's heritage."

But despite Nestor's agreeable thoughts on the matter, Legolas observed doubt cross his friend's face and he appeared troubled by something.

"Tell me you do not hold stock in Bogwen's ridiculous claim…" Legolas questioned with faint disbelief.

"No," Nestor denied quickly. "It is not that. Although, if an enemy were beyond a certain level they could, in theory, conceal themselves within plain sight and remain unnoticed…but I do not think Caliel capable of that."

"Then what has brought about that sullen look on your face, _mellon_?" Legolas asked flatly.

"It is only that I cannot help but wonder if perhaps your father has a point…" the healer hesitantly informed his prince.

Legolas' eyes narrowed and he unconsciously crossed his arms.

Nestor held his hand up as though to stay his prince's tongue to allow himself the chance to finish.

"He may have a point, only in so much as to suggest that perhaps you are a little too close to _the human_."

"Caliel," Legolas corrected curtly.

"You see, you have proven my point," Nestor maintained. "Legolas, in all our discussions surrounding her, have I ever once referred to Caliel by anything other than her name or a fond title of some sort?"

"No…" Legolas faltered as he realized his friend was correct.

"I only did so just now to test your reaction," the healer revealed solemnly.

Legolas' arms remained crossed as he stood without expression, contemplating the implications his hasty defence had unwittingly exposed.

"Legolas…" Nestor's voice was soft and his expression gently, but there was a sadness that tainted his eyes that filled Legolas with dread. "I have noticed some things…little things mind you, but when stacked together they present considerable evidence supporting a growing fear of mine."

"Evidence for what?" Legolas asked without emotion, paying careful attention to avoid tipping the healer off to his inner thoughts once more.

Nestor looked remorsefully back at him, briefly breaking eye contact to check on Raenion. When he returned his attention to Legolas he was saddened to see that his prince's expression remained unchanged as he stole his courage to ask him an important question.

"Are you falling in love with Caliel?"

He had done his best to avoid sounding judgmental in his questioning but he could not conceal the profound worry the subject instilled in him. He dearly loved his prince and feared for him should he endeavour to pursue what many considered a doomed relationship.

"No," Legolas answered firmly, his face like stone. "I do not love Caliel."

Nestor's eyes became downcast as he sighed in disappointment.

"Are you certain you do not? Or is it only that you _wish_ you did not love her?"

Ever so subtly, Nestor saw Legolas flinch.

"I know what it is to love another my friend…" Nestor continued reflectively. "I still remember how I felt when first I glimpsed my wife. My breath caught in my throat and this inextricable yearning came over me as I had never known – as if my fae knew that I had met my mate even before I realized it myself."

"Why are you telling me this?"

Legolas struggled to keep his voice devoid of all emotion but Nestor could see his words were having an impact on his stubborn prince in spite of his best efforts to resist.

"I am telling you this because I think that the sooner you admit your feelings to yourself, the more readily you can deal with them. Accept or deny them; you will have to make the decision at some point whether you will pursue them to wherever they may lead you or bury them down deeply inside yourself and continue on unaffected. The choice is yours- but you cannot make that choice unless you are honest with yourself!"

Despite his earlier moment of weakness, Legolas remained guarded behind his mask of indifference, much to the exasperation of his friend.

Legolas said nothing and Nestor held out his hands in defeat. He was about to turn away when Legolas' voice stopped him.

"…my father fears losing me. It terrifies him…"

Nestor looked back at his prince, gladdened to see his unnaturally cold expression shattered by honest trepidation.

"That is a fear I can well empathize with. To lose a child…there is no greater sense of devastation." Nestor was again drawn to the dying ellon as he closed his eyes in anguish. "Unfortunately, it would seem Raenion's parents are fated to experience those feelings first-hand for themselves…"

"What if it did not have to be so?" Legolas theorized, his face filled with grim determination.

Nestor glanced up at his friend disparagingly.

"Do you think you can convince your father otherwise?" he posed to Legolas doubtfully.

"No, he all but ordered me to stop challenging his ruling."

"Then, I regret that we have reached an impasse."

"No," Legolas argued, resolution shining behind his eyes as they told of a concealed plan.

Nestor carefully studied his friend dubiously, hesitant to place too much hope in a possibly fruitless scheme – but open to the possibility all the same. Anything was better than doing nothing.

The healer looked about him cautiously to ensure they were well and truly alone, before rounding Raenion's bed and coming to stand before his prince.

"Alright – you have captured my interest," he spoke in a hushed voice. "What is it you have in mind?"

"You said earlier that years ago my father would have broken all necessary rules to ensure the safety of the ones he cared about – correct?"

"Yes…" Nestor replied slowly, not sure he liked where this was going.

"Then in that case…Nestor, I command that you resume treatment of Raenion at once," Legolas demanded in a voice that left little room for discussion.

Nestor forced a strained smile but shook his head dejectedly.

"Legolas, I am sorry… You are my prince yes, but you lack the authority to override an express command from your father. To refuse an order is one thing, but to blatantly defy it is infinitely more severe. There would be consequences – I could very well be banished!"

"Do you want to save him or not?" Legolas posed adamantly, bringing his face closer to the faltering healer.

"Of course I do!" Nestor shot back, offended that there could be any doubt to this.

"Then do as I say…" Legolas' eyes narrowed as his voice deepened in conviction. "Tell no one of this- not even Raenion's own parents. I am loathe to make them privy to any information that could possibly endanger them at a later time. It is best if they are kept in the dark."

"Agreed," Nestor nodded. "Also, I would prefer not to get their hopes up…after all, it may already be too late…"

"That only leaves your apprentices…"

Nestor shook his head and tilted it toward the foyer.

"I have only the 3 – one of which is in Rivendell with Master Elrond."

"Good. Keep them away from here. They are not to come anywhere near these walls, is that understood?"

"Yes, yes. But the treatment itself is not perpetual; I need only ensure they remain elsewhere for a few hours at a time."

"Fine. I trust that will not be a problem?"

"No, leave it to me. But Legolas…"

Nestor's face was once again filled with worry as he beheld his prince.

"What happens if your father learns of our betrayal – for that is how he will see it. I have not the strength of will nor mental capabilities to keep his intrusions at bay for very long. If I fail…what then..?"

Legolas couldn't fault his friend for his hesitation as he knew his apprehension was entirely justifiable – especially given his father's cruel behaviour of late. It gave even Legolas pause to think of how his father would react if he found out.

He did his best to smile reassuringly at his friend, disguising his own reservations behind a confident visage.

"Should Thranduil catch wind of our intent you are to state that I was the sole perpetrator of this scheme and that I left you no alternative other than to participate under threat of bodily harm."

Deep lines formed in the healer's forehead as he looked at his prince full of scepticism.

"I very much doubt your father would believe you capable of such a thing…"

"Would he not?" Legolas asked with an unsettlingly treacherous smirk as he knelt slightly to retrieve something from his boot.

Nestor's brows furrowed before shooting upward in alarm as his prince carefully withdrew a dagger and placed it threateningly to his throat.

"Legolas! What are you doing!?" the healer gasped in shock and confusion.

"What does it look like?" he asked softly, as he held the blade just near enough to Nestor's throat to ensure he felt the cold steel caress his skin, but yet not too closely as to draw blood.

"I-I do not understand…" his friend stammered fearfully.

"You will shortly," Legolas calmly assured him. "Now Nestor, I will release you momentarily. But first, I must have your word that you will resume your treatment on Raenion; know that if you refuse things may become rather…_uncomfortable_ for you in the near future…"

"…_you are threatening me to treat him_…leaving me no choice…" Nestor breathed in awestruck realization.

"That is correct…now, may I have your answer?"

"Legolas…you do realize how serious this is and what consequences could await you..?"

Gone was the initial terror his prince's actions had instilled in him as his thoughts turned much more altruistic in nature. Now he was free to treat Raenion as desired and Raenion would likely live as a result – but what about Legolas? What would happen to him if the truth were to come out?

"I am well aware…" Legolas answered him stoically. "Your answer, my friend?"

As Nestor swallowed, he felt the chill of the blade press further against his neck, drawing tiny droplets of crimson blood.

"You have left me no choice…" he answered his prince hoarsely. "I will do as you have asked…"

Nestor felt the blade withdraw from his skin as Legolas heaved a great sigh of relief, returning the dagger to its hidden scabbard.

The moment the diminutive weapon was out of sight Legolas stood quickly and, with a sense of urgency, held his hand near to where his blade had cut his friend's throat.

"I am sorry…I did not mean to…" he mumbled remorsefully.

"It is alright…it is alright. I am fine," Nestor assured him gently as he felt Legolas' hand trembling with worry. "See?" he asked, as he lightly dabbed his fingertip across the small cut and held it out for his prince to view. "There you have it- it has stopped bleeding already!"

Nestor's hand came to rest slowly at his side as he grinned reverentially at Legolas.

"Thank-you," he whispered with profound gratitude, looking Legolas firmly in the eyes. "Now Raenion may stand a chance…"

"That was the intent…"

But before Legolas could return his friend's optimistic smile, the sound of quiet footsteps outside the room saw the two elves freeze and exchange worried glances.

"Master?" a young voice called cautiously.

"Maeron," Nestor immediately identified as he went toward the door. "I will send him out to retrieve some herbs from the garden – that should allow me enough time to administer the first dose."

Legolas silently nodded as he watched the healer slip out the door to greet his apprentice. Meanwhile, he remained a moment longer, observing Raenion with cautious optimism.

"Even if you are aware of what we are doing…" he said softly to the young ellon. "You _must_ keep this from Bogwen…otherwise she will surely see an end to it. You mean so much to many people and you must live- not only for their sake, but yours as well. Fight. Fight harder than you ever have. _Fight and win this_! Take care…"

With his peace spoken, Legolas followed after Nestor into the foyer where he now stood speaking with his apprentice.

As Maeron spotted his prince he immediately stopped mid-sentence and turned away from his master to address Legolas instead.

"My Lord!" he cried, somewhat nervously.

"Maeron?" Legolas stared at him questioningly. "What are you doing back here?"

"That is what I was about to tell you," he assured quickly. "A friend of yours came 'round not 15 minutes ago; he sits with the human now. Aglaron, I believe was his name."

"Aglaron has returned?" Nestor interrupted, sounding both surprised and the tiniest bit pleased.

"Yes," Legolas answered. "Only this morning. I passed him earlier and had arranged to meet with him an hour after that time. If he is already there then that must mean I am late…"

"That would be the far more likely explanation," Nestor jeered as he shook his head. "He has a great aversion to being on time – he is nearly _always_ late."

"True enough," Legolas agreed with mirth in his eyes as he made to leave.

"Legolas!" Nestor called quickly as he followed after his prince. "Wait a moment, please. There is one last thing I had meant to ask you."

Legolas nodded and Nestor turned his head back to catch his apprentice's attention.

"Maeron! I would like a final word with our prince; can you go ahead and fetch those herbs I requested? If we cannot treat Raenion directly then we can at least help manage his pain."

"Yes master!" Maeron answered, jumping at his orders enthusiastically, all too happy to help his overburdened master.

He rushed past the pair of important elves before hastily bowing respectfully and taking his leave.

"Now that that takes care of him…" Nestor began, regarding Legolas once more. "I wanted to apologise for not being able to come to you earlier. What was it you needed me for anyway?"

"Caliel has lost consciousness," Legolas said gravely, casting a cautious glance over his shoulder to ensure Maeron were well and truly gone.

Nestor appeared more curious than concerned as he crossed his arms and tilted his head to the side.

"How did that happen?"

"Nearing the finality of our interrogation I had had all I could tolerate and beckoned to her to join me to leave. Thranduil had other ideas and sought to physically restrain her, baring her escape."

"What?"

Now Legolas could see the formerly absent concern creeping into the healer's grey eyes as he uncrossed his arms, bringing them to rest at his sides.

"What did you do?" he asked apprehensively.

Legolas gave a strained half-smile and laughed hollowly.

"I did the only thing that came to mind: I shouted at him senselessly to release her."

"Oh, that is a relief…" Nestor said with a sigh as he relaxed a little. "For a terrible moment I thought you were going to say you struck him…"

"Well…" Legolas began hesitantly.

"You did not _strike_ him – did you!?"

Nestor's eyes widened as he gaped in horror at his prince, silently praying it were not true.

"No, no," Legolas quickly denied to spare his friend from further distress. "I was about to, but that is when Thranduil all of a sudden let go of her without so much as one single, solitary word."

"Maybe your…_blunt_ words got through to him?" Nestor offered hopefully.

"No," Legolas dismissed flatly. "Something happened to him – to _them_, the moment my father – the moment _Thranduil_ grabbed her. Almost at once Caliel lost the strength to stand while Thranduil just stood there like a statue. His eyes were vacant and he appeared as though he could not even hear me…"

Nestor looked thoroughly puzzled as he brought his chin to rest in his hand. He mentally analysed what Legolas had said as his eyes wandered about searchingly.

"Could she have simply fainted?" he suggested haltingly. "Your father is a powerfully intimidating person at the best of times. If he were in a dark mood he could have frightened her to the point where it brought about some sort of mental episode. Do you think that seems likely?"

"Your apprentice said that it was as if her entire body had been drained of energy, as though vexed from withstanding some kind of strain," Legolas thoughtfully supplied. "That would certainly explain Caliel's reaction…but what of the King's?"

"Hmph," Nestor's face fell as he thought hard on what could have happened.

When he at last shrugged his shoulders and sighed, Legolas deduced that he hadn't had any better luck ascertaining the answer.

"I am sorry…" Nestor declared with frustration. "Perhaps once your friend awakens she can offer more information on the matter."

Legolas forced a grateful smile as he nodded to his friend.

"Let us hope so…" he consented as he turned away to leave.

"Say 'hello' to that lay-about, miserable excuse for a guard captain for me," Nestor called out after him, a cunning smile pulling at his lips.

Without stopping, Legolas turned around shaking his head in mock disapproval as he walked backward through the exit.

**xxXXxx**

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><p><strong>Wow, no notes for once! <strong>

**In other news – the first real snow came on Monday! …I'm not sure how I feel about this. **


	19. Of Fine Wine and Old Friends

**I do not own anything Tolkien related and I am only borrowing his amazing characters.**

**I just wanted to say a special thanks to Wildlifer - thanks for taking the time to review so often and thanks for reading! **

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><p><strong>Chapter 19<strong>

**Of Fine Wine and Old Friends**

When Legolas returned down the corridor to his chambers the last rays of sunlight had already begun to redden and die as they cast their final breath of light throughout the mountain hall. Outside, the sun was sinking in the sky as it buried itself to rest below a distant mountain in the horizon. Already the pale glow of the moon could be glimpsed as the hidden stars slowly revealed themselves to the world's inhabitants.

The days were growing far too short and already some nights seemed endless. Legolas had a gloomy feeling that tonight would be such a night.

With so greatly a preoccupied mind, he had nearly forgotten all about Aglaron as he regarded him with initial surprise the moment he walked through his chamber door.

"Surprised to see me actually on time for once?" the ex-guard captain asked wryly before tilting his head up at the wall clock. "Well, here is a rare change I am unfamiliar with: I have never once had to wait for another to arrive. I suppose I can finally understand why people get upset about it…"

Aglaron's voice was serious but the mad grin plastered across his face completely negated any chance for his words to be taken to heart.

"Then I am to be congratulated by all future persons with whom you have dealings," Legolas quipped drolly as he came to stand near to his seated friend.

About this time Legolas observed that all the candles were burning brightly as the last light of the sun vanished from the sky, surrendering the world to darkness.

"I thought people might talk if I were to be spotted alone in the dark with a young mortal girl," Aglaron said with a wink as he noticed Legolas staring at the candelabrum with interest.

Legolas scoffed and shook his head at his friend's strange sense of humour – it was the one thing he was rather infamous for; well, that and his unwavering devotion to being late. Legolas had questioned him about that once when he was small, only to have Aglaron reply most philosophically that for every second he made a person wait it taught them the virtue of patience. Legolas had thought that utterly profound at the time; now he only thought it rather irresponsible.

"I had the healer ellon sent back," Aglaron informed him as though the thought just occurred to him. "He asked if I were staying and if I could guard the human until you returned. I trust that was alright?"

"That was fine – there was nothing more he could do anyway," Legolas replied absent-mindedly as he walked over to his bed where Caliel lay fast asleep.

Aglaron watched curiously as he saw his prince lightly press the back of his hand against her forehead then to her cheek.

"So what is the story with her?" he dared to ask as his curiosity override his sense of propriety.

During the short time since his arrival, his socialite sister had made him apprised of the lasted gossip making the rounds about the realm. The strange, and seemingly random appearance of a young mortal girl had of course been a particular topic of discussion. How had she gotten so close to their home when many an elf was known to get turned around in the labyrinth of trees that seemed to move ever about as if at will? Why was she alone and how had she managed to survive? Was her presence simply by chance or something more sinister?

But the most fascinating rumour, the rumour that was only spoken of in hushed whispers and darkened rooms was that the prince himself had taken an _unusual_ interest in the girl's plight- personally tending to her day…and night.

"I am surprised you have not already heard…" Legolas remarked softly, removing his hand from her cheek, seemingly satisfied that she was in no immediate danger.

When he turned to face his friend Legolas observed a sombre expression pass over Aglaron's face, indicating he likely possessed more knowledge than he was letting on. He cast his friend a sideways glance as he came to a standstill before him.

"Or…have you already heard?" he questioned with an air of suspicion.

Through tight-lips, Aglaron forced a smile as he shrugged lazily.

"I may have heard a thing or two…" he begrudgingly admitted. "But you know me," he continued on more certainly. "I have never been one to place much trust in such talk."

"Have you not?" Legolas asked doubtfully, recalling with frightful clarity what had happened the last time his friend had fallen prey to baseless gossip.

"No. Ever since what happened last time…" Aglaron's eyes wandered off and he shuddered at the unfortunate memory before returning his thoughts to his current predicament. "This time is different! This is actually important and I wanted to hear the truth of the matter from your own lips."

Despite his woe-be-gone personality, Aglaron was strangely serious as he leaned forward in his chair, touching his feet to the ground.

"So, what _is_ the story with her?"

Legolas was impassive as his eyes travelled back toward the sleeping human at her mention.

"There is little to tell," he replied simply. "I found her in a ravine one day whilst out on patrol. She was dirty and unresponsive; I honestly thought she were most certainly dead – I do not know what possessed me to even check… But, thank the Valar I did because she was alive after all- though, near to death as it turned out. I think had we not happened upon her when we did she would have been dead within the hour."

"Was there no trace of anyone else? A wagon perhaps, or hoof prints – footsteps even?" Aglaron asked in astonishment.

"Nothing – granted, I did not investigate at any length as her survival was my more immediate concern."

Aglaron nodded slowly in understanding, allowing Legolas to continue.

"Nestor saw to her when we returned and I had her confined to a cell as a precaution, but when she awakened it became apparent she had no idea where she was – or even _who_ she was."

"Amnesia?" Aglaron balked as his brows shot upward in surprise.

"Yes. I was not certain at first, but the fear in her eyes…she was so upset that all her thoughts were readily apparent on her face the moment they occurred. I realized my mistake and immediately relocated her here."

"Why here?" Aglaron asked suddenly. "Why not take her directly to Nestor to treat?"

Legolas remained in silent thought for a moment as he pondered his old friend's question.

"I felt as if I owed her a debt…" he began carefully. "I felt badly that I had her locked up like some common criminal and took it upon myself to make it up to her. I also knew that her physical recovery would come about sooner than later but her problem with her memories intrigued me – I have never heard of such a thing before. I suppose what it really comes down to is that I felt sorry for her. She seemed so fragile…so lost."

Aglaron glimpsed a tiny smile cross his prince's lips as he chuckled softly to himself.

"Maybe I saw a little of myself in her," he confessed with a dry laugh that pierced the elder elf's heart.

"Legolas…"

Aglaron felt guilt prick him as he recalled Elanorel's parting words to him. The promise he had sworn to her to uphold above all else- the promise he had thoughtlessly forsook.

Legolas noticed the sad look on his ex-guard's face and offered him a sympathetic warm smile.

"Take no notice of me," he said gently. "It is just that it has been a long day and I am over weary."

"You look it," Aglaron replied bluntly as he observed the lingering anxiety Legolas endeavoured to keep to himself creeping into his forlorn blue eyes. "You have not yet eaten have you?"

From his tone Legolas guessed that it was less of a question and more of an observation – one laced with disapproval and paternal-like unease.

"No," he admitted truthfully. "I do not think I have had a moment's rest all day, unfortunately."

"No wonder you are so fatigued," Aglaron muttered. "Legolas, you must take better care of yourself!"

"You are right. I promise I will soon enough," Legolas mumbled apologetically.

"Good! You can start now," the ex-guard declared firmly. "Look behind you to your writing desk."

Legolas did as ordered and was surprised to see that there on the desk was a silver tray of what looked like several assorted meats, cheeses, and various greens, neatly arranged on a small platter.

"I managed to snag a few fresh buns before they all disappeared so you can make yourself a small sandwich if you like," Aglaron informed him as he kept a close eye on his prince to ensure he did in fact intend to eat.

"You got all this for me..?" Legolas asked in wonder, touched that even after all these years his ex-captain of the guards had foreseen to his needs before he himself had been aware of them.

"It was nothing," Aglaron insisted. "Just call it a hunch."

"Thank-you," Legolas said sincerely as he neared to take advantage of the wonderful spread of food.

As he went about laying the cheese on the pre-cut bun, Legolas heard what sounded like the shuffling of furniture behind him. He went to turn his head to see but Aglaron spotted him right away.

"Ah, ah, turn back around," he ordered mischievously. "I brought a present for you! But I have to set it up for you first…You just focus on your dinner my lord and pay me no mind."

"I seldom do," Legolas replied with a smirk as he placed the other half of the bun overtop the lettuce to complete his sandwich.

What could he possibly have brought, Legolas wondered as he took a small bite from the fluffy warm bread.

When the sound of shuffling ceased, Aglaron happily called out that he was finished and for Legolas to turn around. The moment he did, Legolas had to cover his mouth with his arm as he nearly laughed out loud. Aglaron had moved a side table over to stand in front of the chair he had previously been sitting in and thrown a small green napkin overtop the surface. Resting on the napkin were two large empty wine glasses and an even larger bottle of red wine.

Legolas hurriedly swallowed the last of his food and smiled in amusement at how predictable his friend was.

"This is your gift then?" he asked in amazement. "A _pilfered_ bottle of my father's _private reserve_? Ah Aglaron, will wonders ever cease?"

Aglaron shook his head and pretended to sigh as he removed the cork and filled each glass near to the brim with deep crimson liquid.

"Well, at least you are back to referring to him as 'your father' and not 'Thranduil'," he observed in a huff.

"A slip of the tongue only," Legolas dismissed with annoyance as he grabbed hold of the back of his desk chair and pulled it to rest across from his friend.

Aglaron stole a questioning glance at his prince before returning his sights to his own glass below him. When the glass was filled to his liking he expertly began to rotate his wrist and raise the bottle up simultaneously to ensure not a single drop of the precious beverage was lost.

"Now," he began resolutely as he placed the bottle to the side and took his seat.

He carefully wrapped his fingers around the stem of the glass and raised it in the air, swashing the wine about thoughtfully.

"You must explain to me what exactly has been going on between you and your father. I swear, I always said without me here to keep order the realm would fall – please tell me that I was not actually correct!?" he dramatically demanded in an attempt to lighten the mood.

A tiny smile rose and fell like the tide as Legolas' eyes sought out his own wine glass with enthusiasm. He too held it out in front of himself swirling the liquid about, his face downtrodden and grim.

"That…is a long story," he finally said as he brought the glass to his lips wistfully.

He slowly savoured the velvety smooth feel of the full-bodied yet mildly tart liquid as it ran down his throat and warmed his body soothingly.

"Well, it is a good thing that I brought plenty more where that came from then," Aglaron replied with a coy smirk as he took a long swig from his glass then reached for the bottle to top off both their glasses.

"Start with everything that has happened since the girl was found then work your way back when needed."

Legolas gave a half-nod as he took yet another small sip of his wine before relating the recent events of the last few days.

And so it was that each glass was steadily emptied only to be refilled several times more over the course of Legolas' tale until only but a tenth of the bottle's contents remained and over an hour's time had slipped past them.

Aglaron sat there stupefied as he emptied the last of the wine into his glass, barely filling it half-way. He mindlessly plucked it from the table but held it out to his side as he stared out in a daze, utterly dumbfounded by everything that had transpired.

"Valar…" he finally spoke as he at last came around, taking a small sip of his remaining wine. "I am starting to think I should have procured a mate for this bottle…just this one is hardly sufficient for such a dreadful discussion…"

He was still awestruck as he recalled to mind all his prince had relayed to him as he sat there slowly shaking his head before downing the last of the glass.

"Legolas…if I had have known how dire things around here had become I would have come at once…I feel as though I have failed you…" his voice was thoroughly remorseful as he sat the empty glass down heavily on the table top. "Why did you not send word to me..?" he quietly demanded with hurt in his eyes.

From the glassy look in his eyes to his overly relaxed stance, Legolas suspected his friend's emotions were being manipulated by a certain beverage of choice for the night. Even still, he felt obligated to answer his slightly inebriated friend honestly.

"I had thought about it," he confessed as he consumed the last of his own wine. "But you had relocated to Rivendell to begin your new life with your wife. I could not bring myself to contact you because I _knew_ you would come at once. I could not tear you away from her like that…"

"But I would have come!" Aglaron exclaimed as he reached his hand out in irritation.

"I know, I know – I do not doubt that," Legolas replied patiently, knowing now for certain his friend's senses were about to go on an imminent holiday as the magical liquid took hold.

"No, you do not understand!" Aglaron continued mournfully as he raised his extended hand to cover his face as if in shame. "I _should_ have been there for you! Before she departed, your mother made me swear an oath…"

Legolas' eyes narrowed at the mention of her as he leaned forward with interest.

"What oath did you swear to her?" he inquired seriously as he locked eyes with the ex-captain.

Aglaron drew a ragged breath as he leaned back despondently in his chair. He managed to hold his prince's gaze for only a moment before shutting his eyes dejectedly.

"Before she left- the night she left, in fact- I accidently caught her as she was leaving. I was making the usual rounds and was going to pass by your chamber when I noticed movement in the dark. I was immediately suspicious and went to confront whomever was trespassing but I was startled to see it was only Elanorel. My surprise turned to concern though when I noticed the many tears staining her pale cheeks…"

Legolas' stomach knotted as he involuntarily recalled the night Aglaron spoke of. He fought back the dreadful emotions the awful memory had brought to the surface, pushing it back to the far corners of his mind in an effort to quell the ever increasing anxiety within.

Silently, he began to call into question his own sobriety as he listened on feeling increasingly ill.

"I thought something had happened to you," Aglaron continued. "But when I went to open your door she stopped me. Her eyes…they were so resolute, so _pain stricken_. One look into them cut at my very fae…" he trailed off as he recalled the sad portrait anew.

"What did you swear?" Legolas repeated with irritation as he longed for his friend's account of that night to reach its finality.

"Ahh…" Aglaron shook the memory from his head and resumed his story. "At first she denied anything was wrong, but she wore her hooded riding cape so I knew she was planning on going somewhere so I pressed her until finally she admitted she was leaving Arda for good. I had come upon her just as she had said her last farewell to you I guess…"

Legolas forcibly shut his eyes as the image of his mother hovering over him with glistening tear filled eyes invaded his mind.

"Legolas..?" Aglaron called to him cautiously. "Are you alright?"

"I am fine," Legolas replied through clenched teeth as he banished the image from his heart. "Go on, but make it short – I am far too tired as it is."

"If this is upsetting you I can stop…" Aglaron offered apprehensively, observing the affect his tale was having on his young friend.

"That would hardly solve anything," Legolas replied, becoming increasingly annoyed by the second. "I am already unsettled by this as it is- whether you stop now or finish your tale makes no difference, so you may as well continue."

Aglaron seemed reluctant to proceed but did so anyway, fearing to do otherwise would only further incense his prince.

"She told me she needed to leave and how frightened she was to leave you, so I told her I would always be there to protect you from harm….no matter what. She jumped at my declaration, for it was apparent she was in a great rush. She then asked that if I truly meant what I had said that I should swear an oath on the spot to remain always at your side and shield you from danger. She was so _desperate_, my heart ached for her and I was powerless to decline…I swore right then and there to be your guardian and remain closely at your side as long as you needed me…"

Legolas hadn't the faintest idea that Aglaron had done that for him. Of course in retrospect it certainly explained his friend's seemingly self-appointed, almost paternal protectiveness he had adopted toward him.

And then there was his mother to consider. Had she really been that heartbroken to leave without him? He suddenly wondered if his decision to remain behind had been horribly selfish on his part as he felt hot tears burn his eyes.

"I fear I have broken my oath to her…" Aglaron said softly from somewhere nearby.

Legolas covered his face with his hand, hoping to conceal his growing distress.

"Please forgive me…" Aglaron all but sobbed as his head slumped into the makeshift table, causing his empty glass to chink from the vibration.

Legolas raised his hand at the sound and slowly lowered it from his face.

"You have done nothing that warrants apologizing for…" he implored to his now overwrought friend. "You said it yourself – I am a grown ellon now, you do not need to hover over me as though I were a child."

"Forgive me," Aglaron mumbled into the green napkin before raising his reddened eyes to regard his prince. "But whenever I look at you, all I can see is that infuriatingly stubborn elfling traipsing around the corridors at night, pretending as though you had not the slightest fear of thunder when it was blatantly apparent that you were _petrified_ of it."

Legolas' face lit up as a faint smile passed over.

"So, you knew all along did you..?"

"Of course!" his friend spat, sitting straighter in his chair. "_Everyone_ knew…but you were so damn insistent no one had the heart to call you out on it…you were so much like your father then…"

Legolas' smile began to fade but his eyes remained kind, though melancholy.

"I wanted to be exactly like him…" he said softly, laughing at his childish aspirations.

"I think you are…" Aglaron said with quiet conviction. "Not how he is now, but as he was. Your mother would be proud of the ellon you have become…"

Legolas laughed to draw attention away from the tears that filled his eyes anew as he feigned an exaggerated yawn.

"Well, my old friend," he began as he carefully stood. "Both you and I have an early start tomorrow – I think perhaps it best we bring this evening to a close."

"Early start?" Aglaron asked in staunch confusion as he worked to focus his dulled mind to what Legolas had said.

"Yes," Legolas said with a worryingly calculating look. "Did I not tell you that you are to be Caliel's personal guard tomorrow in my absence?"

Legolas watched in amusement as Aglaron's mouth visibly dropped as he struggled to recall when exactly he had been told that.

"You did not tell me that until now…" he slowly accused as his forehead wrinkled in annoyance. "You are serious? I have to babysit the human for the entire day tomorrow? But, I had promised my sister- !"

"Then you will have to find some way to make it up to her," Legolas informed him flatly.

Aglaron's shoulders slumped and he frowned back at Legolas, evidently unappreciative of his new-found responsibility.

"You care about her?"

His voice was monotone and he appeared to sober a little as he intently awaited his prince's answer.

Legolas stared carefully into his unwavering eyes, attempting to determine whether or not his answer would be an attribute to his cause.

"Yes…" he declared without reservation, as he observed his friend's decided lack of response.

Aglaron sat there a moment longer without a word as he processed Legolas' frank admission.

"Then I will do it…" he finally answered with certainty. "For you," he added as he pressed his hands to the small table, managing to stand with minor difficulty.

From the way he swayed back and forth, despite using the side table to stabilize himself, Legolas saw that his father's wine had now completely taken hold of Aglaron. He would have to ensure he were given a strong dose of dandelion tea before he went to bed, as he couldn't risk having him incapacitated the next morning.

"Well…" Aglaron declared with a large yawn, stretching his arms above him. "If I am to play nursemaid tomorrow I had better get some rest…"

He stepped to leave but his left foot somehow became entangled with the foot of the table, sending him lurching forward, arms outstretched, attempting to break his fall.

Luckily for Aglaron, Legolas' Sinda blood was much more resistant to the effects of alcohol as he managed to react just quickly enough to catch his friend before he collided entirely with the hard floor.

Having been nobly saved by his young prince from what he considered most certain doom, Aglaron looked up at Legolas and placed his hand over his heart.

"Oh," he exclaimed in a queer high-pitched voice. "You saved me! You are my hero!"

Legolas stared blankly down at the intoxicated Silvan elf as he erupted in a hysterical fit of laughter. Legolas all but rolled his eyes as he hauled Aglaron to his unsteady feet and helped him to the door.

Aglaron was still quietly chuckling as Legolas somehow managed to open the door whilst simultaneously trying to keep his friend upright. Once in the hallway, he waved over a nearby guard, giving him implicit instructions to assist Aglaron in getting home and to ensure he drank every last drop of dandelion tea – even if it meant throwing cold water over him so he could remain awake long enough to drink it. Aglaron thought this imagery highly amusing it would seem, as his laughter regained its previous fervour as he shuffled away, leaning heavily on the patient guard alongside him.

Legolas couldn't help but to shake his head as he smiled fondly at his old friend as he left.

Some people never changed…yet others were capable of changing beyond recognition, he thought woefully as he closed the door gently behind him.

When Legolas turned around he was surprised to see Caliel's eyes open and staring at him, softly smiling to herself.

"You are awake…" he breathed in delight, coming to kneel at her side. "Are you alright?" he quickly asked, looking anxiously into her sleepy eyes.

"Mm-hmm," she mumbled as she flashed him another small smile. "Yes…just tired…so tired…"

Legolas frowned at the weakness in her voice as he noticed with concern that she was struggling to remain awake even now.

It was only due to the sudden sound of something crashing that she had been roused from her slumber. She would have likely fallen right back to sleep if not for the infectious sound of laughter nearby.

"What happened?" he asked gently as he ran his hand along her head, checking for any trace of sickness.

"I don't know…" she said, closing her eyes once more.

Legolas lowered his eyes as he awaited for her to continue, wondering if perhaps she had fallen back asleep.

"His touch…" she said eventually as she found the strength to continue.

Legolas raised his eyes back up at the sound of her voice, listening apprehensively as he dearly hoped she could shed some light on what had happened earlier.

"His fingers were like ice…The moment he touched me it felt like my mind and body were slowly shutting down. I couldn't see…hear…or move…it felt like I was dying…I was so scared…"

"Shhh…it is alright now," he said compassionately seeing the terror in her eyes. "The healer said you are just weary and once you rest you will be back to normal."

Legolas lightly stroked the hair beside her face and tried to smile reassuringly. Instead of explaining what happened, her words only furthered to deepen the mystery surrounding her ordeal.

He tried to conceal his disappointment from his face as he forced his voice to sound pleasant. There was after all, _one_ good piece of information he could give her that may bring her some comfort.

"Well," he began as casually as possible. "I can at least relay one happy piece of news."

He watched as she opened her eyes wider looking at him expectantly.

"Whether by some minor miracle of the Valar or perhaps his own newly resurrected conscience, my father has changed his mind and allowed you to stay until your memories return."

He deliberately stopped short of explaining the exact circumstances surrounding his father's sudden and odd change of heart. It was not as though he were lying exactly, more, he simply decided to omit that particular detail until she were stronger. Besides, he thought as he continued to convince himself his reasoning was sound, if he told her of his father's strange reaction to coming in contact with her it might upset her and make it harder for her to fall back asleep.

Caliel lay still and silent but her lips had parted ever so slightly in surprise. Was it really true? Had Thranduil actually changed his mind? Considering how vehemently he had pursued her with his negative line of questioning it leaved little doubt in her mind as to his true feelings for her. Thranduil greatly disliked her- maybe even despised her, as he made it abundantly clear that he thinks she is a threat to his son.

Why let her stay? What changed his mind?

"Caliel?" Legolas gently called to her, bringing her attention back to him. "Did you hear me?" he asked as her eyes met his.

She only nodded in reply as she felt her eyelids growing heavy, making it difficult to keep them open. She felt Legolas' hand leave her hair and felt a brief shadow pass across her face as he stood to his feet. A moment later she felt the mattress beneath her quiver as the weight of another lay beside her.

"I am so relieved you are alright," Legolas said with open sincerity.

She felt the bed dip beside her as he wrapped an arm across her opposite shoulder in an ardent embrace. He held her closely as the minutes passed by one by one.

It was only as Caliel began to hear the steady and deep sound of his slow breathing that she realized with surprised glee that he had passed out holding her. Were she not as exhausted as she was she would have laughed at the adorable sight.

She tried one last time to open her eyes to catch a glimpse of his angelic face as he slept but was disappointed to find his face buried into the pillow facing away from her. What she did see though that she hadn't noticed earlier, due to her entire focus being on Legolas, was a rather tall bottle sitting on one of the side tables that had been dragged between two chairs.

Caliel couldn't help smirking as she saw that the bottle was entirely empty- as were the two large wine glasses near to it. Now it made sense, she thought with amusement, as she once more allowed her eyes to close. She quickly began to drift away, pleasantly lulled to sleep by the strangely comforting sound of Legolas snoring softly beside her.

**xxXXxx**

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><p><strong>Aww! Semi-drunk Legolas…think of the potential! Muwhahaha! <strong>

**Two notes:**

**I googled herbs to prevent/help hangovers and dandelion came up. I don't know how effective it would be…but maybe it works better on elves. ;)**

**I find it funny how alcohol can have barely any effect on some, and yet crash into other like a tidal wave. I theorize that magic cancels out/resists the effects of alcohol in the blood and so those elves with greater abilities/pure blood have higher tolerance to it. Maybe that's why Thranduil makes it so strong. ;)**


	20. Of a Memory Strangely Forgotten

**I do not own anything Tolkien related and I am only borrowing his amazing characters.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 20<strong>

**Of a Memory Strangely Forgotten**

**Nearly 100 Years Earlier…**

Legolas stood at the precipice gazing downward fearfully at the dark water below. The torrent of waves crashed against the side of the cavern and sent whitecaps seething about the surface before eventually becoming engulfed by the deluge.

He took a step back as a particularly strong wave crashed near to him, spraying mist upward in his direction.

"Legolas!" his mother called from in front of the bridge.

He took one last lingering look at the rushing water below before running off toward her eagerly.

She smiled and reached her hand down to him, which he freely took.

"Come _i__on nîn_, your father is expecting us."

As Elanorel drew closer to the suspension bridge that separated her from her husband she felt her hand being tugged backward, preventing her from going any further. She looked back perplexed as she saw Legolas frozen in place, clutching tightly to her hand. He stood wide-eyed fixated on the channel of water below, trembling at the sight.

Elanorel turned around and kneeled before him, her hand remaining in his.

"What is wrong, my dear one?" she asked as lightly as possible, careful to avoid placing too much significance on his newly developed fear.

His large blue eyes met hers and she could see they were shaking from fear as she followed his gaze back toward the bridge behind them.

"I see…" she spoke compassionately as she watched the suspension bridge sway slightly in the breeze.

She turned her head back to him and gently stroked her nervous elfling's hair.

"You have nothing to be worried about my child, the rope is made from the bark of the lebethron tree – it cannot be broken. It will not fail us."

Legolas looked uncertainly from his mother's soft warm eyes to the thin rope behind her and bit his lip.

"Do you trust your _Nana_?"

He heard her ask, sounding rather sad. He quickly looked back at her face and nodded firmly.

"Yes! It is only…"

"Only what?"

Legolas, still gnawing on his lower lip, hung his head in embarrassment and Elanorel brought her head closer to his to listen.

"I am afraid of falling…" he whispered, his voice quivering.

He looked up sheepishly at his Nana in shame but she only smiled tenderly.

"Would you like me to carry you? Just until you find your footing."

Legolas' eyes lit up and he immediately outstretched both his arms toward her eagerly. Her melodious laughter filled the cavern and seemed to Legolas to drown out the awful sound of the menacing river below.

She pulled the exuberant elfling against her and felt him wrap his arms around her neck and his legs around her waist as though his very life depended on it. He snuggled into her soft hair which had been made warm by the rays of sunshine that had seeped through the cracks in the cavern's ceiling.

Elanorel walked slowly and felt his arms tighten against her each time the bridge swayed. She couldn't help grinning as she thoroughly enjoyed being able to once again bring comfort to her ever-growing child.

"_Nana_?" Legolas' soft voice was steady now, though she could still sense his trepidation.

"Yes, _ion nîn_?"

"Is _Ada_ alright?"

"Yes love. He is awake and asking to see you."

"But why is he here? I have heard the guards speak of him but when I questioned them on his whereabouts they would not tell me."

Elanorel felt guilty about hiding his father's injury from him, but she didn't want him to worry before they knew if there even was anything _to_ worry about. She ran her hand along his back and thought on how best to explain it all to him.

"Your _Ada_ had a little _accident_," she began slowly.

Legolas pulled his head away just enough to view her – his eyes wide with alarm.

"Everything is fine," she quickly assured as she gently guided his head back to rest upon her shoulder. "The other day whilst your _Ada_ was assisting the excavators in the lower levels there was a small cave in."

She felt him stiffen but he did not look at her this time, trusting in her promise.

"They were able to dig him out within the hour, however he was unconscious when they reached him and so they brought him here as a precaution. But he is awake now, and I think seeing you will lift his spirit. So do not be frightened, alright?"

"Yes _Nana_," she heard him mumble into her hair as his body relaxed.

Once they had crossed the bridge Elanorel made to set Legolas down but his fingers gripped tightly to her dress still.

"Legolas…"

"Please _Nana_?"

She sighed and decided as this was a special circumstance she could be forgiven for babying him a little – just this once.

She carried the clingy elfling into the Healing Halls and Nestor greeted them on the spot. His recent loss was still evident in his melancholy eyes, but at least he was making an effort now, and Elanorel took solace in that.

"How is my husband?" she asked as soon as Nestor was finished speaking.

"He fares well. Thank the Valar it was only a mild concussion and nothing seems to be broken; though, he is experiencing a rather severe headache – which I have already given a drought for, so it should pass soon."

Elanorel breathed a sigh of relief and felt like embracing her friend – had Legolas not already asserted his claim over her.

"Forgive me lady Elanorel," Nestor asked with determination. "I must ask: why was he down there to begin with?"

She huffed in irritation, pushing Legolas upward as he slipped down in her arms.

"You know Thranduil and his quiddities," she said sounding more than a little annoyed. "When he becomes fixated on something there is no swaying him. The vintor informed him he is expecting a surplus of wine this year and so Thranduil – ever the enthusiast – opted to assist the excavators to hasten the readiness of the lower chambers in time for when the wine reaches completion."

Nestor's face contorted and he squared his shoulders at her.

"But…he does not know…" he sighed and decided to abandon the line of questioning as he readily accepted his lord's reckless actions.

It certainly wasn't out of precedent for Thranduil to do something like that.

"Well," Nestor spoke to his queen frankly. "Tell _your husband_ that if he plans on making my halls frequent visitations then I would like to have him sworn in as my next apprentice and make himself useful at least."

Elanorel laughed kindly at the healer's jest but could feel Thranduil calling to her.

"Thank-you _mellon_," she bid him. "It is not only your finely honed skills, but your profound wisdom that continues to act as a pillar of strength to our realm."

Nestor eyed her wryly, catching her smirk as soon as she finished her little speech.

"Indeed," he scoffed. "Your husband is in the west wing – not that I need to tell _you_ that," he added with a wink.

"Thank-you Nestor…"

Elanorel walked away as though displeased with the healer for his antics, but a smile swept across her face breaking the illusion almost immediately.

Nestor's humour was returning. Maybe he would be alright after all?

She grinned widely as she hurried to tell her love the wonderful news.

**xxXXxx**

"Well, if this is not a sight for sore eyes…" Thranduil called gruffly to his wife and son the moment they entered. "And what is this? Legolas, why are you making your poor _Naneth_ carry you like a wee babe? Have you not two strong legs to walk upon?"

"Oh leave him be," Elanorel chided. "He worries for you."

"Is that so..?" he spoke feigning surprise as he smiled happily at his son.

Elanorel carefully set Legolas down on the floor – his fingers finally surrendering her dress back to her.

Legolas looked hesitantly at his father, holding his hand to his chin.

Thranduil's smile shrank slightly as curiosity crept in.

"What is the matter, _ion nîn_?"

"_Nana_ said you were hurt – that you were unconscious."

"I was yes, but I am alright now."

"Will you get hurt again? Nestor says you will be coming to recover here frequently…"

At that Thranduil shot his wife a questioning look.

"Legolas, Nestor and I were only speaking in jest. It was not meant to be taken seriously," she clarified awkwardly to the worried elfling as she felt Thranduil staring at her unimpressed.

"It is alright _ion nîn_," Thranduil cut in. "I do not understand the joke either. Perhaps your _Naneth_ can explain it to _both of us_ later…"

"So, _meleth nîn_, you are feeling well?" Elanorel spoke quickly, attempting to change the subject.

Thranduil arched a brow at her before letting the corner of his lips curve upward mischievously.

"I have never felt better – though this dull headache continues to vex me despite Nestor's treatment. I will be able to return to you by the evening I would imagine. And Legolas," he said extending his hand toward the elfling.

Legolas came over and Thranduil wrapped his arm around his waist and hoisted him up to sit in his lap.

"I have been thinking – you see, there is little else to do here," he added with a smirk. "And I have decided that you are now old enough to begin weapons training."

Legolas' mouth dropped open in astonishment.

As did Elanorel's.

"Should we not first discuss this!?" she implored as fear shot through her heart.

Thranduil looked at his wife patiently.

"We cannot forever infantilism him _meleth_…"

She looked sadly at the hopeful elfling sitting comfortably in his father's lap. Sitting so closely to Thranduil made Legolas seem so small in comparison. Was he really ready for it? Elanorel knew it was what he desired most of all and his father's blessing had thrilled him beyond compare. If she were to forbid it now it would crush him – and she couldn't bear to imagine the tears that would surely follow. And even if she did deny him his joy, it would not change or eliminate the desire within him and one day, whether tomorrow or a year from now, he were destined to take up the sword and bow.

Elanorel did her best to force a tiny smile across her lips.

"If you father believes you are ready then I trust his judgment… But, I do not want to find you one day lying in this bed because of it!" she added with not entirely false severity.

Legolas gaped at her in disbelief before throwing his arms around his Ada in joy.

Thranduil had to close his eyes as the unexpected movement had sent his head spinning. He raised his arms to embrace his son and as he did so Elanorel noticed with concern that he seemed to have difficulty moving them.

_Meleth…_she spoke reaching out to his mind so as to not draw attention to it and worry their son.

Thranduil, with Legolas still hugging him tightly, opened his pale grey-blue eyes and in them Elanorel could see weariness begin to take hold.

_Do not overexert yourself, my love. I want you home soon. Take this time to rest, then return to us when you are healed…_

Thranduil's eyes closed firmly in understanding and when he opened them they shone brightly with love and gratitude for his caring wife.

"I will be with you again soon," he spoke aloud, his voice deep with longing.

Legolas pulled away from him and peered into his eyes as if gauging the veracity of his statement.

"I promise, _ion nîn_. Nestor is overly cautious. Personally," he lowered his voice and brought his lips closer to Legolas' ear to whisper the last of his thought. "I think he is just lonely and wants a friend around for comfort…"

Legolas' eyes narrowed and he nodded solemnly, feeling privileged his Ada thought him grown enough to understand such a thing.

"You mind your _Naneth_ now," Thranduil relayed with reserved authority.

"Yes _Ada_," Legolas hopped down and turned to leave but spun around suddenly to add. "Heal fast!" his soft voice attempting to copy his father's commanding one.

Thranduil's eyes shone with mirth as he placed his hand across his chest in a mock bow.

"Yes my lord," he replied as seriously as his face would allow.

A delighted smile swept across Legolas' face as he went over by the door and waited for his Nana.

Elanorel strode over to Thranduil's side and bent to run her hand across his face tenderly, his eyes closing in response to her warm touch.

"You will _rest_, will you not?"

He pretended to frown at her sceptical tone and reached out to caress her cheek in kind.

"Have you ever known _me_ to disobey orders?"

Even he could not keep a straight face as a broad grin lit up his face.

Elanorel sighed but returned his infectious smile.

"What will I do with you, _Elvenking_?" she reprimanded him teasingly.

His grin became devious.

"A few thoughts perhaps come to mind…though the atmosphere leaves much to be desired and there are 2 eyes too many," he tilted his head toward where Legolas stood, yet his piercing eyes remained engrossed in his wife's.

He laughed softly as he caught sight of her cheeks flush pink, and as she let her fingers fall from his face he caught them in mid-air the second they left him. Looking deeply into her beautiful blue eyes, he gently caressed her fingers with his before drawing them to his lips and kissing them delicately one by one.

As his supple lips left her last finger, he brought his hand up and placed it to the back of her head, pulling her down to him. His hungry lips found hers as he savoured every kiss greedily, delighting in the pleasure it brought him.

_Thranduil…_ she spoke to his mind. _Legolas is still there…_

She heard him groan in disappointment as he finally released her from his grasp.

_We will continue this later…_ he conveyed back to her mind as a wicked grin tugged at his lips.

Elanorel joined their son who stood patiently, though now slightly nauseated, by the exit.

Before they stepped out, she shot her husband her own cunning smirk.

"You promised to rest for the night," she reiterated. "_We_ will see you tomorrow – and not a moment before."

The stunned look on her love's face as she and Legolas left saw her giggling like a child all the way to the bridge.

"_Nana_," Legolas finally addressed, sounding mildly annoyed. "_What_ is so funny?"

She cleared her throat and attempted to rein in her mad grin.

"Nothing my dear one. Your father is just unfamiliar with not having his way."

Legolas stared at her critically, still unsure why that warranted a serenade of laughter.

"Anyway, my dear," Elanorel said more normally. "Would you like me to carry you across again?"

Legolas thought on it then shook his head.

"No. If _Ada_ thinks I am strong enough to begin training then I should be brave enough to cross this by myself."

Her arms were relieved to hear that, but her heart sank a bit.

"As you wish my little one…or should I now start calling you 'my lord'?"

He shook his head vigorously.

"No, you can still call me your little one – but _only_ you. I cannot have _Ada_ calling me that in front of the other warriors!"

"Indeed not!" she replied with matched disapproval.

Maybe she was worried for no reason. Maybe he would never have need to practise his learned skills in real-time.

She could only hope.

Elanorel had made it to the middle of the suspension bridge before turning around to see her little warrior still standing on the precipice, eyeing the bridge with steely determination.

Legolas was about to take his first step by himself when suddenly the rope lurched forward unnaturally, sending the bridge rippling about wildly.

"_Nana_!" he cried as he saw her fall to her knees, gripping the rope in desperation.

"Legolas!" she screamed at him. "Stay back!"

"But _Nana_!"

"_Come no further_!" she commanded in a severe voice he was unaccustomed to hearing.

Legolas stood shaking in fear, unable to move, as tears filled his large blue eyes.

"_Nana_!" he wailed again, but his cries were drown out by a deafening crash as the cavern began to give way around them.

Legolas gasped as cracks appeared like claw marks, reaching across the stone toward him. His mother's own horrified cries tore his eyes away from the floor only to look up in time to watch as the last of the bridge broke as it, along with his mother, collapsed and fell into the darkness below.

"_Nana_! _Nanaaaaaaa_!"

His legs gave out beneath him as he frantically crawled toward the edge of the cliff- hoping and praying with all his might that she would _somehow_ be alright.

When he finally reached the ledge his arms shattered below him as he flopped to his stomach in shock. All he could see was a great void below him as both the bridge and his mother were nowhere to be seen.

Legolas lie there gasping for air as he felt panic overtake him. All around him he could hear the sound of rocks crashing down and shattering into millions of pieces, but even that seemed somehow far away as the still echoing sound of his mother's anguished cries reverberated painfully within his ears.

Suddenly a large crack opened up underneath him and before he could roll away a large black figure flew out from the depths and grabbed hold of his hand. It dug its sharp claws into him, piercing his skin and sending a searing pain radiating throughout his hand and up into his arm. Warm crimson blood seeped from the gashes and dripped down his fingertips – the sight of which sent him reeling.

Despite the creature's claws still boring into his hand, Legolas tried to pull away, crying out in agony as the blade-like talons only deepened their grip.

_There is no escape…_

Legolas' skull felt as if it were splitting as the malicious creature spoke into his mind- the sound of which resembled not a single voice, but a horrifying chorus of a thousand agonizing screams, twisted together in unison.

_She cannot save him – he is forsaken! _

The creature conveyed cryptically and before Legolas could react, it reached with its other hand and grabbed him by the arm, tearing into his tender flesh like parchment.

Legolas shrieked in agony and fright as the monster began growling menacingly at him. What began as a low and deep growl quickly escalated into a terrifying howling that ricocheted off the tumbling walls until it was all the poor elfling could hear. It felt to him like it were trying to steal away his little remaining sanity.

"_Nana_! _Edraith enni_! _Nana_!" (Mum – save me!)

Legolas felt the ground beneath him finally crumble as it sent both himself and the monster plummeting down into the darkness below.

**xxXXxx**

Legolas couldn't see anything as he fought hard against whatever was grabbing at him.

"Hey! Legolas! Wake up – it's me!" a shrill female voice implored.

As he gradually calmed down Legolas realized he was back in his room and that it was not the creature that had hold of him – but Caliel.

He stared at her with skin as pale as the moonlight breathing irregularly as his wild eyes darted around frantically.

Just then, the door was kicked open and 3 heavily armed elvish guards piled into the room.

"My lord! We came at once! Are you alright!?" an ellon asked with a strong sense of urgency.

At first they only looked to Legolas to ensure his safety, having been alerted by his manic cries for help. But when their prince assured them it was only a nightmare their alarm slowly began to fade.

Once they were certain he were in no immediate danger Caliel noticed that their eyes had begun to wander over in her direction, as they exchanged disdainful looks amongst one another.

"Leave," Legolas commanded, his voice low as he rubbed his hand over his forehead.

2 of the guards left promptly but the third stood still in place, facing Legolas yet looking toward Caliel.

Caliel's stomach was in knots as she dreaded what sort of admonishment she were in for this time. She had been found in bed with their prince in the middle of the night. What would Thranduil say about this? She bit her lower lip anxiously at the thought.

Legolas pressed his index finger to his temple as he noticed with irritation that one guard had apparently forgotten how to obey orders.

"Is there anything else?" he asked dully, his expression impassive though his tone conveyed his aggravation.

The elf held all the signs of someone who greatly sought to speak, yet whose brain had instructed them otherwise. He couldn't help unconsciously glancing beside his prince to where Caliel sat though, and that single gesture informed Legolas of all he needed to know.

"What of her?"

Legolas' jaw clenched as he now openly glowered at the lone sentry. Caliel began to feel a little sorry for the elf as he visibly squirmed under Legolas' unyielding gaze.

"Nothing my lord," the elf finally replied with difficulty as his internal battle waged on.

"Then remove yourself from my line of sight before I am forced to _escort_ you out myself."

The ellon hastily bowed to Legolas then, with some reservation, to Caliel.

"My lord…lady…" he stammered as he walked back toward the door before bowing one last time and retreating entirely.

"Wasn't that a little harsh?" Caliel asked her bed mate as he fumbled about with the blankets, arranging them back to how they should be.

"No," was his curt reply as he lay back down, pulling the now orderly blankets overtop himself.

Legolas lay with his back to her and said nothing more, though he could feel her eyes upon him.

"Go to sleep Caliel…"

When she didn't reply he buried his face deeper into the pillow, gladdened she would not press the subject.

"Who is 'Nana'?" she asked, her sweet voice the very embodiment of curiosity itself.

He groaned into the pillow. It seemed as if sleep would continue to elude him for the time being…

Caliel heard what sounded like a groan but ignored it. _He_ had woken _her_ up by thrashing madly about in his sleep and she was going to find out why. She wouldn't be able to rest until she knew…and so consequently, neither could he.

Legolas slowly rolled over to face her and propped himself up on his elbow, leaning his head on his hand.

"_Nana_ is short for _Naneth_ – it means 'mother'," he stated simply.

"Mother? Your mother? So that's what your nightmare was about?"

His lips parted in mild surprise.

"How..?"

"You were talking in your sleep. Well actually, you were _yelling_ in your sleep – that's why the guards came I think – because they thought you were in danger."

Caliel watched as his brows peeked upward before he awkwardly looked away in embarrassment.

"You kept calling for her. And you said something else…edra..en…"

"_Edraith enni_…save me…"

Legolas massaged the bridge of his nose before sliding his arm forward and ushering himself into a sitting position.

"My dream was about my mother," he admitted matter-of-factly. "But it was not so much of a dream as a memory long forgotten. Though…I cannot say _why_…"

He seemed reluctant to speak any more about it as he fell silent in contemplation.

"Did you want to talk about it?" Caliel asked, trying to bring his attention back to her. "You know, I heard from a certain elf that if you speak openly about your nightmare that it will lose its power over you…" her green eyes gleamed mischievously as she eyed him carefully.

Legolas cast her a sideways glance, arching a brow.

"Whoever told you that was a fool."

"Well, I suppose it takes one to know one," she spoke in an airy tone as she shrugged her shoulders derisively.

Legolas' eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Such profound wisdom for someone so young. Do you truly wish to delve into the deep recesses on my mind? You may not like what you find…"

He wore a crooked smile but his voice was deadly serious and she couldn't tell if he were joking or not.

"If it would help you there isn't anything I wouldn't do," she replied sincerely.

Legolas hadn't anticipated such a genuine response, expecting instead for her to counter with another flippant remark to combat his own. He laughed scornfully as she continued to watch him with a quizzical look on her face.

"As you wish…" he said dryly, shaking his head in wonder. "As I slept a memory resurfaced in my mind that I had all but forgotten. You recall how you had asked me if anything had happened to my father preceding his sudden change in behaviour? And that I had affirmed there had been nothing?"

"Yes..?"

"I was incorrect. Something _had_ happened, but for reasons unknown my mind had chosen to forget it."

Caliel leaned forward hanging off her friend's every word as she felt a nervous anticipation arise within her.

"When I was yet a child I remember my mother taking me to visit Father in the Healing Halls. He had been in the subterranean chambers the day prior and there had been a cave-in. Father was caught up in it and it was nearly an hour before they were able to reach him. They found him bloody and unconscious.

"No…" Caliel breathed. "What happened?"

"Nestor healed his wounds and I recall that my father was in fine spirits when Nana – Mother, and I visited him," Legolas paused and smiled at the memory. "That was the day my father finally allowed me to begin combat training…Mother had been so conflicted, I thought she would forbid it without hesitation. But she did not…Caliel," he said her name with greater certainty as he continued speaking. "That was one of the happiest days in my life – I thought it would have been _years_ before I were allowed to train. How could I have forgotten like that!?"

His face contorted in frustration as he sat shaking his head in disbelief. Caliel, still in deep thought, reached over to him and ran her hand down his arm compassionately.

"Well, at least you remember _now_. That's something – right?"

He smiled weakly but the matter still troubled him. He had been completely overjoyed at his father's unexpected announcement and it had been the catalyst to what would become decades of rigorous training and self-discipline. Not to speak of the fact that the memory had involved his dear mother and he held precious few memories of her – he would not so easily have let that one fade away to nothing.

"Did something happen to your mother that day?" Caliel asked gently, intruding on his thoughts.

"In actuality – no. My dream however…that is where the line between past and illusion began to blur before becoming soaked in darkness…"

Before Caliel could respond, Legolas' eyes widened suddenly as he remembered something of great importance. Without warning, he pulled his arm away from Caliel and frantically went about rolling the fabric away to expose his bare arm. He brought it close to his face, turning it back and forth repeatedly, all the while his eyes critically examined every inch.

"What are you looking for?" Caliel cried in alarm.

"Claw marks," he replied ominously as he finally relaxed, seeing nothing out of the ordinary.

"What..?"

"Caliel, I fear I may have just been paid a visit by the same fell creature that invaded your dreams," he said gravely. "When my mother was crossing the bridge that joined the Healing Halls to the rest of the mountain, the entire cavern suddenly began to collapse. The rope broke and my mother fell…" his voice wavered as he fought back the unwanted memory.

Caliel saw this and instinctively reached out, taking his hand in hers. Legolas smiled at her kindly before continuing on resolutely.

"When she fell, I ran to the edge after her. It was then a shadow being leapt out from the darkness below and grabbed hold of me, cutting its claws into my hand and arm so I could not escape. It pulled me down and dragged me below. It was then that…you woke me."

"That's why you were trying to attack me…" she mumbled as she began to understand.

"I did not harm you, did I?" he asked, becoming deeply concerned.

"No, no – I'm fine," she answered, quickly dispelling the thought. "But, what about you? Are _you_ alright?"

"I am…thanks to you," he smiled warmly at her before becoming serious. "Caliel, _guren glassui_ – from my very heart, I thank you, my friend…"

But as a smile began to take shape across her face, it suddenly stopped and fell.

"I should be the one thanking you," she said firmly. "If not for you I fear your father would have surely sent me away…"

"I am not so certain it was _I_ that influenced him…" Legolas replied doubtfully.

"But even so, I am essentially a stranger to you and yet you put your neck out on the line for me regardless."

Legolas looked up at her in surprise.

"You are no stranger; you are a dear friend, Caliel…"

"Do…do you really think of me like that..?" she asked with a great deal of hesitation.

Now was her chance to ask him about what he had said about her to Nestor. Maybe now was not the time, but it bothered her much more than she would have liked and she needed to know how he really saw her.

Confusion passed over his face as his eyes looked to her questioningly.

"Of course, why would I not?"

She drew a deep breath and brought her knees up to her chest, holding them to her with her arms.

"When you were talking to Nestor after he saw you kiss my forehead, you kept referring to me as just 'a mortal' and 'a child' – like I wasn't even there. You looked like the very idea that Nestor could have mistaken your kiss for something more disgusted you…"

Realization dawned on Legolas' face like a beckon as he sank his head into his hand.

"So that is why… Is that why you would not take my hand when first you attempted to walk?"

She nodded solemnly.

"Caliel that…"

"You told me before that you saw me as an _equal_ – _a friend_. Was that a lie..?"

"No," he replied automatically. "I meant every word."

"Then why did you tell Nestor-"

"I do not know!" he cried disparagingly, unable to articulate his thoughts. "Caliel, please believe me when I say that you _are_ my equal – mortality aside. I do not know why I told Nestor otherwise… I did not mean to hurt you… I care for you very much…"

Caliel let her legs slide down as she moved to sit cross-legged, studying him with reservation apparent.

"You do?" her eyes were hopeful but her voice held faint disbelief.

"Yes," he replied adamantly before lowering his voice. "Perhaps, not only as a friend…"

She stared intently at him, her heart thumping in her chest, questioning if she had actually heard him correctly.

"Caliel, there is much I do not understand right now…" he lamented as he ran his hand down his chin uneasily. "These dreams of my mother…and now this dark entity… I have never felt such profound unrest within myself as I do now. This uncertainty… it _frightens_ me. In truth, I do not know what to make of it all…" he stopped speaking as he allowed his eyes to wander off, vacantly staring into nothingness.

When he at last spoke again, his voice was heavy and rattled as he strained to speak.

"The only thing I am certain of is…that I cannot stand the thought of being without you," he looked into her soft green eyes with a yearning sadness. "When my father was intent on sending you away I know at once if he would not allow you to remain then I would leave with you. I would have followed you wherever you went…"

Legolas trailed off as he gently ran his fingers through her hair, staring longingly into her now trembling eyes. As his face began to draw nearer Caliel's breath caught in her throat.

"Caliel…I…"

Words failed him as he found himself moving his hand from her hair down to the back of her neck, pulling her to him. His lips pressed against hers so delicately at first she could barely feel them at all, but quickly they deepened with an almost desperate need as he sought them out passionately.

He hadn't realized until now, having her in his arms like this, how greatly he wanted her – wanted to claim her as his, not just as a friend but as a lover.

_Lover…_

Something in his mind panicked at the word and he pulled away from her suddenly.

Neither of the two had been expecting what had just happened as they sat there in stunned silence, their minds racing to explain it all.

"I-I think it is time we get some rest…" Legolas mumbled awkwardly. "I must awaken early in the morning to resume my patrol…Goodnight…"

"Night…" she whispered back in a daze.

Legolas lay down, burying himself in the blankets, facing away from her.

Caliel stared at his back for a moment before climbing under the covers herself – also facing with her back to him.

She exhaled heavily as she finally released her long-held breath.

Somehow, she doubted she would get much more sleep tonight.

**xxXXxx**

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><p><strong>Sooooooooooooooo I've debated about exactly when to have this kiss happen. I don't want to prolong the angst unnessesarily but I also want to avoid, "Hey, this is crazy and I just met you, so marry me maybe?" ;) <strong>

**On paper it's been 20 chapters so on the one hand I feel now would be acceptable but when I look at it from the perspective of the characters timeline it's only been 5ish days. I've asked myself if I were in Caliel's position, stuck essentially 24 hours a day with a guy I had a crush on: would I kiss him? When I think of a certain black-haired, blue-eyed Aussie cashier with an adorable smile my answer is a resounding YES. Hahaha! So for Caliel I think it's fine. **

**Legolas is the tricky one. **

**Obviously things of that nature carry significantly more weight for elves, but here's my thought process: Tolkien stated that most elves marry earlier in their lives and for love (unless they had 'strange fates'). Considering their marriages were for life and their lives were forever they literally were married forever- even after death in fact, should it happen. This makes me think they must love differently than humans, who are relatively lust and impulse driven by comparison. I mean, most of our marriages end in divorce with celebrities spending millions only to part ways not even a year later. If elves loved like us, it would be disastrous. I think in order for elvish marriages to be successful there must be an element of fate - of **_**knowing**_** this person would be a wonderful spouse and loving first with the soul and not the mind or body. **

**If I think about it this way for Legolas it makes it more acceptable that he would kiss her, because if he has feelings for her it's not by chance, so it's not that he's doing it on a whim. **

**Also, I thought it important he took this step because it shows that he's finally admitted his feelings to himself (and Caliel in a way) since he was too afraid to before. Granted, he's still terrified by his feelings, but at least he's not in denial anymore. **

**This may be my longest A.N. ever but since it's an important scene I wanted to add a little more on my thought process. **


	21. Of a Brief Respite

**I do not own anything Tolkien related and I am only borrowing his amazing characters.**

**This will be a pretty short chapter compared to my others. I promise my next one will be quite long in comparison and I will update it by Wednesday. **

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 21<strong>

**Of a Brief Respite **

In the morning Caliel looked with relieved disappointment to find Legolas was already gone by the time she had awoken. Last night's sudden and shockingly passionate kiss had robbed her of a greater part of the evening's sleep and she found that despite her lingering exhaustion, she simply could not quell the clamouring thoughts in her mind.

The entire time she lie there awake she had been acutely aware of Legolas laying perfectly still mere inches away from her. She had had no way to know if he were sleeping or not so she tried her best to avoid tossing and turning too much so she didn't disturb him.

Sighing aloud she looked around the empty room, feeling the noticeable absence of Legolas' presence. She wondered briefly where he could be until she remembered his passing comment last night (or was it this morning?) about leaving early in the morning for patrol duty.

Patrol…

He must be out there guarding the perimeter of the mountain, she thought apprehensively as she imagined all the terrible creatures he could potentially be facing this very instant. He could be fighting for his life while she lay here warm in his soft bed.

Shaking her head forcefully, she tried to ignore the uneasy feeling festering in her heart as she pulled back the covers and swung her legs over the side of the bed.

It was then she noticed that she was still wearing the same clothes as the previous day. This came as no surprise really, as she didn't exactly have her own personal wardrobe to pick and choose the day's outfit from. She also hadn't planned on going to bed so early either and so now her clothes were not only too big, but completely wrinkled as well.

"Oh well," she sighed to herself. "Who's going to see it?"

It felt a little scary being entirely by herself for once- well, for the first time since she had been attacked anyway. It made her feel ill to think that the same awful creature that had come so close to ending her life had also gotten to Legolas last night. Now he was out there in the forest, exposed and likely outnumbered. Would it take the opportunity to finish what it had started? He was the only thing standing between her and the creature – he was an inconvenience. Would it want to remove him as an obstacle?

As her concern for her elf-friend grew and grew Caliel could no longer remain still as her feet leapt down onto the cool stone floor. She had to find something to do with herself today – something useful to occupy her mind so she would stop worrying about Legolas.

But what?

As she looked frantically about the room for some kind of distraction, Caliel spied a sealed envelope on the top of the only side table to remain in its proper place. Her curiosity was immediately evoked as she walked over to Legolas' designated side of the bed and picked up the unassuming paper. On the front was her name written in beautiful calligraphy that she very much doubted she could ever hope to replicate, while on the back was a red wax seal with the symbol of a small intricate leaf imprinted into it.

Was this from Legolas?

Of course it had to be – who else?

She nervously slipped her finger into the small opening at the side and cracked the seal to open it.

What could this be about? Was it…did it have something to do with what happened last night? She continued to wonder apprehensively as she carefully removed the folded letter.

"Dear Caliel," it began innocently enough, giving her no indication as to the possible tone for the rest of its contents.

"By the time you awaken I am afraid I will be gone. I do not know if you recall, as at the time you were rather tired, but I had informed you that my father had decided I must return to my obligations to my realm and go out on patrol this morning.

I am sorry to say that I do not anticipate to return until later in the evening – but do not worry, you will not be alone. I have assigned my old friend Aglaron to act as a personal guard to you and go wherever you may.

Do not worry about inconveniencing him, he tended to me as an elfling so if he can survive that torment he can handle anything you could think to ask of him."

Caliel's face lit up as she imagined that coy smirk of his sweeping across his face at the end of that sentence as soon as she finished reading it.

Laughing quietly, she picked up where she had left off.

"He is a loyal and true ellon, but I feel I must give you advance warning that his sense of humour can take a little…getting used to. He has been known to land himself in trouble because of it on more than one occasion.

Despite this, I feel comforted knowing you will be in his care.

I would have liked to remain with you today as there is much I wish to discuss with you, but alas, it could not be.

As I write this I find myself unable to sleep, as my nightmare continues to haunt my waking thoughts and no matter how I try I cannot quiet my mind.

There is something else that has left me unsettled: a conversation I had with my father after you passed from consciousness. I honestly do not know what to make of it and would greatly value your input. I have told no one else of this – not deliberately, it is only that every time I thought to I could not bring myself to speak of it. But with you I do not have the same reservations…it is strange."

Caliel's lips curved into a broad grin as a touch of pride filled her heart. He couldn't talk about this with anyone else – only her. Knowing this she felt incredibly blessed and honoured that he placed such trust in her, favouring her above others that he had known for many more years.

This became a sobering thought as she realized she'd have to ensure she remained worthy of such respect and do whatever she possibly could to help him – no matter what.

Lowering her head resolutely she continued on.

"It is late now; I will be leaving soon. Already I can hear the stirring of other elves as they begin their morning routines. I feel a quiet anticipation as I turn my thoughts toward being once again able to roam freely about the Wood.

But there is also a noticeable reluctance tainting this as I cannot help but worry about leaving you.

Caliel, stay away from my father.

There is something wrong with him and I do not know why, but I believe he may see you as some kind of threat – and not only to myself.

Heed my words and do not stray from Aglaron's side, regardless of how much aggravation he subjects you to.

Alas, my time grows short.

I promise I will return to you as quickly as possible.

Until that time, you are free to wander about as you like – with Aglaron.

Take care my friend and please be safe,

Legolas."

Caliel slowly lowered her hands and allowed the letter to hang loosely at her side as she stared vacantly in front of her.

A conversation with his father that unsettled him..? How much more unsettling could it have been after that last one they had?

She sighed restlessly as she continued to agonize over her absent elf – her worry doubling as she couldn't help but wonder as to what else his so-called 'father' had said to upset him like this.

Now she really needed a distraction.

It was then she heard the faint and distant sound of birds chirping in the distance. It had been a long time since she had heard the melodious sound and she felt inextricably drawn to it. Her eyes followed the inviting sound across to the other end of the room and was awarded a most spectacular view just outside the balcony.

Fresh air was always good for clearing ones thoughts, she recalled hearing somewhere.

Maybe it was worth a try?

But first, having become all too familiar with the rapidly approaching winter weather, she went over to Legolas' wardrobe and opened the unsecured doors.

For a prince, his clothes were surprisingly practical in nature with only one or two items whose sole purpose appeared entirely ornamental in their execution. The rest of his assembly consisted of much the same style of clothing she already wore with several pairs of various earthen tone leggings and tunics. Everything had a quiet, subdued dignity about it with small personal touches indicative of his standing, such as specially crafted buttons or stitching done in lavish threads.

And yet not one piece stood out or called too much unnecessary attention to itself – and thus its wearer. Caliel wondered if this had been a deliberate fashion choice on Legolas' part, perhaps reflecting an inner desire to be counted among the masses and not royalty?

She slid one hanger and then another over to the side as she flipped from piece to piece, searching for something slightly heavier in nature to shield herself from the elements.

A jacket, she thought hopefully. Surely he must have at least one!

Gradually the amount of clothes to her right lessened, as one by one she slid the hangers aside as her hopes to procure a jacket dwindled.

As the last silver tunic left her touch she gazed disappointedly at the lopsided bulk of clothing before her.

Not a single jacket. How was that possible?

Unless he was already wearing it, she realized glumly.

She looked toward the balcony and back at the wardrobe and frowned. There was one item she could utilize as a jacket…though, it was much more formal looking than anything else Legolas owned.

Caliel located the hanger with the item of choice and pulled it back to the forefront to inspect it once again. It was a long dark green robe, seemingly made of crushed velvet with the same exquisite silver embroidery woven throughout. It was absolutely stunning as delicate vine-like threading climbed from the hem up to the chest and down the wide opened sleeves. Tiny leaves were stitched amongst the silver vines, carefully spaced to ensure presence without opulence. In the centre around the waist were four hand-carved dark brown buttons crafted out of what looked like maple.

She hadn't noticed it earlier, but as she examined them more closely she realized each button had some small image carved into it. Her eyes looked back up at the first button as she held it between her fingers, angling it to catch the light better.

"A…tree?" she pondered aloud as she wondered as to its significance.

Moving along she was excited to see the next symbol was at least more outwardly obvious.

In the middle with four small holes at the sides to allow the thread through, was the image of what looked to her like either an elk or a stag with large antlers looming formidably above it. Its expression, if an animal can have one, was strong and inspiring.

Again, she wondered as to its significance, making a mental note to ask Legolas about it later.

The third button seemed to contrast the last in every imaginable way possible. Unlike the rather masculine imagery of the previous button the third was quite feminine: a tiny star shaped flower, delicate yet beautiful.

As Caliel moved it about in the light she felt a smile creeping across her face – though she wasn't exactly sure why. It was as if the simple image was a visual tonic for her senses and just by gazing upon it she felt a renewed sense of hope instilled within.

"I wonder what kind of flower this is..?" she posed to the empty room around her.

With some reluctance she let go of the serene image and moved onto the fourth and final button which contained the image of a solitary leaf. It was little in comparison to the other three images, leaving much of the surface of the button smooth and untouched.

Like the symbol of the five-pointed flower above, Caliel felt an inextricable sense of longing as though she were being drawn into it. It was almost as if it meant something incomprehensibly significant to her but she couldn't say why.

Then she realized that this was not the first time she had seen it. The seal on the envelope Legolas had given to her also bore the exact same marking.

Lowering her hand from the robe she began to have misgivings about wearing it for such a trivial purpose. Clearly this was something of great importance – it looked as though it had only ever been worn a handful of times. Could she really borrow it?

It wasn't as if she were planning on going for a stroll in the woods or any place where it may become damaged or dirty; she only intended to step outside on the balcony for a few minutes. Surely that would be acceptable – would it not?

Caliel reached back up to the luxurious deep green robe but hesitated, leaving her hand hanging in the air near to it.

"It should be alright," she declared to no one in particular as she managed to convince herself to dawn the garment.

She carefully removed her would-be jacket from the hanger and gently slid each arm in one at a time. Like his tunic, Legolas' robe swallowed her up entirely as it dangled along the floor around her. It was surprisingly heavy she found as she finished fastening the buttons and lifted the bottom of the robe up to keep it above the floor as she walked toward the double doors of the balcony.

She had to push back her sleeve to locate her hands before she was able to unlatch the locked doors baring her exit. When she heard a faint 'click' she tried pressing downward on a single handle, smiling in triumph as it freely gave way allowing a wonderfully refreshing breeze of cool air to waft in.

She needed this more than she thought, she realized as she slipped through the open door and closed it softly behind her.

The view was awe inspiring as she all but floated over to lean on the parapet, closing her eyes and breathing deeply of the lovely earthen scent of the Wood. The cool wind whipped against her strongly as it blew her hair away from her face.

Oh yes, she definitely had made the right decision to borrow Legolas' robe. It shielded her just enough from the brisk fall winds to allow her the opportunity to appreciate the effect the air was having on her senses – particularly, her mind. She no longer felt tired and foggy but rejuvenated and awake.

Still keeping her eyes firmly closed she smiled happily. This was the first time in what seemed like a lifetime that she had felt well - whole, as if her mind and body were cleansed and pure once more.

It was a deeply profound feeling that she wished would never have to end.

But like all good things it was not to be as the sound of a tray hitting a table top broke her fragile moment of peace.

Mildly startled, she looked back inside toward the sudden and harsh sound. Inside she could see that a tall blond-haired elf was now in the room staring outward at her intently.

From the look on his face he didn't seem too pleased with her as she swallowed her nerves and opted to venture inside to greet him.

**xxXXxx**

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><p><strong>Sorry for the short chapter, cold season has begun and one sick, clingy toddler plus one sick Mummy equals zero sleep haha! But like I said, I will have the next one up on Wednesday so you needn't wait long. :) The next chapter is also very long – at least double this. <strong>


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